Letter to Students 19 April 2009

Dear Reader

I didn’t have to think twice about the date today, as it is my birthday, and how could one forget one’s own birth date?  Probably quite easily if your birthday is not important to you, but as I told you in my last letter, I love celebrating other people’s special do, and secretly, or not so secretly, love it when someone makes a fuss of mine!  I have been so blessed this birthday, starting on Friday when the wonderful school family blindfolded me before our Friday assembly, and led me into a room full of smiling faces.  I wish I could have gone round and hugged everyone, but there wasn’t enough time!  However, I so appreciated the beautiful big cake which easily fed us all, and my family at home, the card, and Sumaya’s beautiful flowers and card.  I felt as if I were walking on air, and I was touched with Aaron’s impromptu speech. Such speeches are always the best, and I felt humbled by the kind things he said.  Life is not all about “me,” but it is nice to have a day when you can indulge yourself without feeling guilty!

I had to be up early yesterday to go the University of Otago to do some work, and only had four hours sleep, which has now become my regular pattern.  I woke up at two o’clock in the morning, and couldn’t get back to sleep.  I was actually really excited about the birthday party my children were putting on for me, and the more I thought about it, the more difficult it was to go back to sleep. I reflected on the years we had been together, and although I couldn’t remember all the many parties we had enjoyed, thanked God that we had become stronger each year we shared as a blended family.  Han’s four young teenagers could have been a real handful for me, a headstrong, independent traveler who had never really ever settled down in one place for very long, but from the day we met, it seemed so natural to be together. If you look at the way Han and I approach our lives, you would think the difference would be recipe for disaster in a marriage. When we met almost twenty years ago, Han was looking forward to enjoying a calmer period in his life, having married young and anticipating having his children off his hands in the following seven years.  Little did he know how his life was going to change when he met me!  Maybe he did, and thought it was worth the risk! 

However, life isn’t easy for a couple who had followed such different paths before they met.  I was born into a family who had their roots firmly planted in the south of Dunedin.  My father’s grandparents lived in the road above us, and when my parents were young, my grandfather would ring to check that they were alright if the light wasn’t on at the usual time!  Mum had a fractious relationship with her mother in law, but I loved her dearly.  In her later years, she lived in a council flat across the road from us and I visited her every day when I was in Dunedin.  My father gave me my passion for cricket as a youngster, and every night in summer we would be out with a bat and ball.  Every meal was eaten around the table, and talk was always about what my sister and I had been doing. However, as happy as I was, I had a burning desire to live in a foreign culture from an unnaturally early age.  I remember coming home from Sunday school, and dreaming of going to the New Hebrides and helping the local people. I wasn’t running away from anything, but certainly running to something, although I did this dreaming from the security of my cosy bedroom. 

Han, on the other hand, was brought to New Zealand, against his will, at the age of nine by Dutch immigrant parents who settled in Central Otago, and worked on a farm.  Han’s father craved an adventure after serving in Indonesia, although he carried his war stories to his grave.  Perhaps because of his experiences, he was an aloof father who only once ever went to watch his oldest son play football; and then berated him for wasting both their time!  The frugal father saw no point in Han bringing his prized train set with him from his village in Holland, and this devastated the frightened young boy who arrived in New Zealand with nothing but smuggled watches up his arm, and a carton of cigarettes in his bag for his opportunist father! Han is a gifted guitarist, but his father chastised him for wasting his hard earned money on buying a guitar.  When the family ate dinner, Han ate it in the family dairy, looking after the shop and “stealing” chocolate bars as his pay! In New Zealand, there used to be a line drawn between the Catholics and the Protestants, and a lot of discrimination against Catholics within New Zealand society.  In Han’s early days in Central Otago, the Catholic children had to stand on the school bus, and the Protestants would get the seats.  My Protestant mother was not at all impressed when she heard that Han was not only Dutch, but also Catholic!  Mum had a prejudice against Dutch people as one of her friends was married to a Dutchman who was arrogant, and Mum put them all Dutch people in the same boat!

In contrast to Han, who had married young and had four teenagers,  I had led a very independent life, and although I had a five year old daughter, I still “had my skates on,” as Han described it, and he was determined that I should take them off.  I adored living in other countries and learning the language and culture of different cultures.  Han loved the idea of having a base, and finding his base in Portobello, he finally found the security he had craved all his life.  My desire to travel has continued to be a source of strife in our relationship, my fascination with other cultures being something that Han understands in me, but with which he struggles.  We “surf different waves,” as Han says, and although we live in a house which looks out over a calm harbour today, the seas are not always calm.  Relationships are never easy, and all couples go through rough patches.  That is all part of the intricate fabric which is our lives.

It was amazing having all the children out home last night, and even more wonderful that they all stayed the night.  We had bodies sleeping all over the house, and I was the last man standing along with my daughter in law and son in law who joined me in the spa at one thirty this morning.  I was also first up as I slept with my grand daughter Indi, and she awoke at six o’clock to say, “I love you Oma Shaza.”  How special is that?

The morning was a series of breakfasts as the children awoke at different times, and the mist cleared to reveal a harbour as still as a millpond.  It was lunchtime by the time Suny and Nathan headed off, having given my ten month old grandson, Seth, some Rescue remedy as he always screams in the car.  For the first time ever, Seth was calm when he was placed in his car seat, so I gave Suny the drops to give him on the way.  She rang on her arrival back home in Hawea, a three hour drive, to say that Seth slept the whole way.  How wonderful that is!!

Last night’s dinner was one out of the box, and I took lots of photos on my old camera which I hope will reflect the gorgeous night we had. Even without the photos, I will carry the memories in my heart forever.  My daughter, Nicky, made a beautiful speech, and I replied by saying how truly enriched my life has become through meeting this special family.  I wished the night could have continued forever. Each son or daughter had prepared a course, with Suny serving a beautiful cheese platter, Scott making incredible Mexican tamales and spicy roasted corn salad with tomatoes, Jo doing the main course with a fabulous chicken dish accompanied with potatoes and salad from our garden, and Nicky ending the meal with a rhubarb dessert.  I had bought tequila and cointreau, and Jan made marguaritas which took me back to my days in my favourite Mexican restaurant in Tokyo, of all places.  It is amazing how one is instantly transported back in time when one has a taste sensation like that!  The entire evening was one gastronomic delight!

This morning I thanked everyone for all the effort they had gone to, and I realised, yet again, how all those years of investment into the children had paid off.  Not that one wants to be repaid as a parent, as that is not our purpose in having children, but to be appreciated is essential, and to be truly loved is humbling and truly touching.

Jan has just come in and suggested I write a poem, and so here is one off the top of my head:

Mist gathers

Late afternoon

Gathering in the day

Mist gathered

Early morning

Heralding in the day

(I began the poem, but Jan just read it and said I was no Maya Angelo, a great American poet.  It is hard to keep up the inspiration when told this!)

My poetic juices have now dried up, so I think I will finish here, and perhaps write again in the morning.  Since I am only sleeping for four hours, I should have some time to write before school tomorrow.  Hasn’t the weather been amazing?  It is so balmy at night, and warm and sunny during the day. There is a southerly blast coming, so make sure you wear your woolens or polyprops!  Have a great week!

Love

Sharron

PS

It is Monday morning, and I just wanted to add that I had a wonderful conversation with my eighteen year old daughter, Shahan, who is in China.  She is wise beyond her years, and I love talking with her on the phone.  Life in China is not easy, but she is making the most of every day, and her enthusiastic teaching of little children has been responsible for an increase in the school roll.  As difficult as she has found the teaching, she is obviously doing a wonderful job, and I am so very proud of her.  Shahan wants to come back and take a massage therapy diploma at the Otago Polytechnic next year, and she will be excellent at it. Her older sister Suny has done a similar course, at a private institute, but Shahan went to great pains to tell me that she is not following in her sister’s footsteps but following her own heart.  Shahan will always be her own person, with her unique style.  All my children have that special style, but then I know that I am biased, as all parents should be!

Now off to do some emailing, and make the most of this special day.  Wasn’t it a glorious weekend, with the weather reminding me of early summer!  The cold blast today has brought me back to earth with a jolt, but I don’t mind.  It is warm in the school and the sun is shining through the glass of the windows!  I don’t take my wonderful life for granted.

Love

Sharron