Kitchen Conversations and the joy they bring

For many years I had a very special daily routine in my life.  The Housekeeper of my boss, who additionally is also regularly in my office building, is a wonderful lady .... like me she is married, has kids and all the challenges of balancing work, marriage, grown up kids (plus her one in school as well as also a grandchild). We understand school and all that goes with it, grown kids with girlfriends and boyfriends, family life and many other common things.  We are moms.  We are colleagues.  She calls me by my nickname, K, and we have spent many moments over the past 5 years, laughing at things, getting tears over things, getting angry over things and enjoying the daily kitchen conversation we used to have. Amazing how important the “basin” chats became.

We had a special ritual ..... I would come to work and find her at the basin in the kitchen.  Whilst I threw some yoghurt and muesli in a bowl (I find it impossible to eat first thing in the morning before I go to work) and made a coffee, we would catch up on the past 24 hours.  We went through a wide array of topics in every week - the political situation and who had done what, stories about our kids, concerns we had, fun things that had happened, what we had done on our leave etc.  It was just 10 mins, but felt like so much more. I remember when she went to the sea - first time ever - her son sent me blow by blow photos .... first step into the water, first time knocked over by a wave.  On Sunday she leaves to the sea again ..... I cannot wait for the pics.  When I took Setswana lessons she helped me with my practising.  When her daughter had to do a school assignment for LO incl gynaecological instruments (yes you heard right), I was the researcher.  When the baby shower rolled around, I sat at home and made colour printouts of all kinds of pics for the party.

I see her in my office now on Wednesdays and between her time in my office and then the boss’ office, making them smell wonderfully of furniture polish, we try and keep up our ritual.  Sometimes it is hard to be working, answering the phone and talking to someone who is in and out, also while she tries to bring some order to my very full desk .... but we are trying.  Even she misses our kitchen chats I was told today. We keep each other up to date as much as we can in the time we have ........

but those Kitchen Conversations ...... they will be in my heart forever.

Cherish the special moments ..... it is the little things that are very often actually the big things in our lives.

Till soon - be good to yourselves

c’est la vie xxxx

Strings of Love - my dream is now real

I combined a plan that was a long time on my personal wish list, with a crazy moment of “now is the time”, and recently started my young adults discussion group, Strings of Love.

I have always found a gap in society for this.  Even in schools.  Even in my church.  A place, even in a church, that is not a Youth Group and all that goes with that, but is also not the place for professional counselling, like Lifeline.  A “half way stop” for chatting, discussing, sharing, asking and interaction.  A more structured space, with a specific starting topic each time, but with enough space for a brief social chatting time and a snack at the onset.  But structured talk had to be the focus.  This is not intended to be the Buena Vista Social Club kind of gathering.

For years I have been chatting to young people who seek me out.  Via my own kids, through their school they were at, through church, through friends of friends and all sorts of ways.  This has gone on, on and off, for the past at least 20 years.  Some teenage kids that turned to me for space to talk are now in their 30’s, married with their own kids.  Many of them still keep contact with me.  Some are still in my life, 12 years later.  And from this, always, I wanted to have a more structured space.

This year, prompted by something really horrible said to me (it seems strange that the ugliness of one person who is supposed to be way better than that, can spark something so positive), I knew that this will be the year in which this will start.  In May, on a half day retreat at the Jesuit Institute, there was discussion about the ties that bind us to various people in our lives.  During the individual reflection afterwards in the garden, I was thinking of this and my mind leapt from ties that bind us, to strings, to love and there I had it “Strings of Love” ….. I knew that my months of prayer and discerning had been answered.  The times that I had asked God ….. will I manage?  Will they come?  Will I know what to say?, had been dealt with.  The name leapt up.  I wrote it down and walked back to the common room and told the young girl who had come with me …. “I have a name”.  

I set about to start my planning.  The venue was easy, my office at the church is 10 steps away (in the same building) from the Adami Centre, which forms part of the house in which our offices are.  I am the parish secretary of a large Catholic church and part of my “personal ministry” time is also to run the Repository for the parish.  The Repository is in the Adami Centre, so it is all intertwined.  It has chairs and tables and a little kitchen area and is ideally suited also for the young adults in this centrally located area who have no car and need to walk there.  The hire cost that the church charges the public is affordable and so I looked no further to hire a place.  My group is also very beneficial to the church as many of my members are parishioners, so as parishioners there is a “community programme” right on their doorstep that they can attend, and feel comfortable in.  There is no other group like this available in a big radius, so although not included as a parish ministry, the fact that the young people know me and know many of the others there, has made it easy to get going and to include people who are not in our parish, as our young people are very welcoming.

Next up was the fact that I know that young people love to eat.  And no matter what the age, hotdogs and Oros are always welcome.  So I ensure that I have enough viennas and rolls to give at least 2 (sometimes 3) to each one, lots of Tomato Sauce and a big Oros.  This is a great “hello and how are you” catch up time at the beginning and I usually allocate the first 30 or so minutes for everyone to arrive, eat and get ready.  Trust me this gets very loud.  But it is a wonderful heart-warming gathering of young people filled with joy.  It is also a good time to welcome new people, or people who are not from our parish, not Catholic, not known to others etc.   And our young people never let me down in this welcome.  This time we even had an exchange student from Chile.

I pack the chairs out in a large circle and each time I buy / make a little bookmark / purse sized card with a message on.  I encourage them to put it up on their pin boards, in their cars, in their wallets or anywhere else where they will see it regularly over the next month.  This month I also bought and gave each one of them a little cross.  My heart leaps when I see how kids of all ages get this excited about this little thing I give them.  After the first meeting, the youngsters took to social media, posting pics of where all they had their cards.  There were pics at work, varsity, school, church, sports camps …. The cards went as far as Swaziland.  Heart-warming indeed.

The youngest currently attending is a Gr 10 pupil, followed by a gr 11 pupil and then there are 3 pupils in Matric, with the oldest member being 26 years old.  We have a great spread across 19, 20, 21 and 22 years, and then about one or two of each 23, 24 and 26 years.  Almost an even number of males as females (which is very interesting to me) and a mix of pupils, students, part-time students or people working in internships, or a full-time job.  The older ones are still very student-like, if that makes sense.

We settle down in the circle, I find out who has anything big that has happened to them since we last met (good or bad) and I tell them the same.  It is lovely that in any discussion they always want to hear my personal answer as well.  The first time we met I was pretty anxious.  I had started a Whatsapp group explaining my dream and the response had been good.  But would they come?  As the starting time arrived I found myself pacing up and down between the kitchen and the entrance, somewhat anxiously.  My son says he was just starting to feel heartbreak for me ……and then ….. I heard car doors slamming ….. footsteps ….. voices ………. And my dream became a reality …..

Trust is imperative.  That I have theirs. That they have mine. I made this clear. This group is not a catalyst for a gossip session the next day on social media.   To prove my willingness to bare all to them, I put a plastic dish in the centre of the room at the first meeting, along with some pieces of cardboard and pens, and told them each one was to write down one thing they wanted to know about me.  They did not have to put their names.  I did not want trivial questions like favourite colour.  I told them to dig deeper.  I would answer unless I had a very good reason not to, and I would say so.  The youngsters did not disappoint, and the type of questions they asked showed me that such a group was needed, and that many of the questions they were asking themselves, were ones they asked me.  I was honest, brutally so, I never left a single question unanswered.  Some made me teary, some made me have to think very well before I verbalised an answer, some made them laugh.  But I answered.  Because they need to see that I am serious and prepared to be there.

This past Saturday we delved into a list of “17 things not to give a damn about”.  It was a good framework for issues of gossiping, the “what-ifs” or life, body image, body shaming, being right all the time, the ability of social media to destruct relationships, trust, social anxiety etc.  The thing that made me the most emotional was how eagerly all of them gave input, honestly, no holds barred and that many of the issues that the guys raised, were previously thought to only be concerns for girls.   It was wonderful.  And proved that the fact that we once again spoke non-stop for over an hour, meant there is a need.

The group is not only open to our parish.  It is not only open to Catholics.  It is not only open to Christians.  My group has only one criteria ….. Be You. We pray when we end the meeting. It is our way.  No one is forced to join in.

So I am currently discerning over my plans for the October meeting.  I spend a lot of time on the phone or meeting (outside of work time) with young people who want some one-on-one advice, help, or most often of all ….. someone to listen.  They know that I am just a number away.  I am happy to meet them in my lunch break or my off time, because very often just telling their story helps them sort it in their heads.  I offer them space.  You do not know how important that is.

My own kids (19 & 23) attend the group and their pride in me is so special it always brings me to tears.

I have been blessed that so far someone always steps up and says they want to sponsor the hotdogs and Oros because they love the concept I have come up with.  I am so grateful for the assistance with the costs.  However I have promised the kids that even if I have to pay the hire and food myself, this group will always go on. 

So to those who said follow your dream, to those who take a genuine interest in my planning before the time, to those who are interested in hearing my thoughts after the meeting, to those who actually ask what I experienced ……. You are the wind beneath my wings.  And I treasure you.  Sometimes the most support comes from those we least expect it from, and vice versa.

I hope to have more and more people join.

Follow your dreams …. I did.

Till soon

c’est la vie  xxxx

My lunches in a Catholic graveyard

What an enormous blessing my job affords me.  Death affects everyone.  And affects the families of the deceased, enormously, in different ways.  And as part of my job, I get to work with many people and families that come to the parish office to arrange funeral Masses and Services with our clergy, and then with me for every person who wishes to have the internment of Ashes in our Garden of Remembrance.  I have also worked with many families who move ashes from another GOR to ours, or bring ashes back from overseas.  It is an important time in these families’ lives, and to share this process with them in the weeks it takes, is very special. 

The Garden of Remembrance is very close to my heart.  Not because I have any family there yet, but because of the 70 plus families I have worked with, whose family, friends and others are remembered there.  We have sold niches to people preparing for the future, sold niches to people immediately after a death in their family.  We have had people now needing to use niches bought years ago.  I often get asked, when niches are being selected, "how do I know which one to choose?".  Very often people choose immediately and come to me with a picture of the niche or the number.  When people are confused as to where to place their family, I often tell them to go and sit in the Garden of Remembrance. Just sit. And listen. And look. And wait. You will know.  I don’t know how, but of this fact I am certain.  The process of picking words for a plaque is easy for some and so hard for others.  Getting to the point of sending me those words, is so traumatic for some that even I am driven to tears.  Many many times I have had people opposite me in the office, when the plaque is manufactured and ready, who say they are not ready yet and how will they know.  I always say the same thing.  Go home. Go sit in our Garden. This week, next week, next month, you will know when you are ready to place the Ashes.  I have had people bring Ashes to me and then just not being able to hand me the box.  It is heartbreaking.  I have gone and sat in the Garden with many many many people over the last 5 years.  Just sat.  It is a blessing.  Every time. 

I deal with the administration side of engaged couples in prep *149 so far* .. I do wedding rehearsals *27 so far*, I stand available for questions .... my opinion on veils, invites, you name it. Simply because I am impartial.  I mop up tears. I prepare baptism certificates, very often for couples whose marriage certificates were also written by me in years gone by.  I get so excited by that! 

However death is a huge part of our office.  My own friends have asked me if it is not depressing.  No.  It is very sad.  I have seen families heartbreakingly enter our offices after family have died from illness.  I have seen families who are shattered when their adult children, small children, babies - pass away.   Parents, uncles, aunts, cousins. Sudden deaths. Long time coming deaths.  Tragic deaths. When Fr C is not able to be there he trusts me to deal with arrangements with the families.  I find that incredibly moving - Fr Chris likes to know about the deceased person ... what families remember most fondly, what the person liked to do etc.  I listen to the most wonderful stories.  How people met. What their hobbies were. Their funny traits.  Husband mourn wives and vice verso.  Grandparents.  Parents.  Raw grief.  Raw pain.  The reality of life.  You do not have to be a member of clergy.  Just like undertakers deal with it, so does the secretary of a parish office.  And in a very big parish like ours, this is often about 25 times a year.  I have often had to go to the bathroom and wipe my own tears away after dealing with a family.

I marvel at how many people I have sat in the Garden with, or at my fountain,or in the Adami Centre, at my desk, in their car, in the church.  How many tears, how many tissues, how many whatsapp’s.  And I am so grateful for this. 

During my lunch breaks I usually do one of two things.  Sit in the Presbytery garden and read / do my crossword, or go to a coffee shop and do the same.  Now that Jess is in Pretoria, that lunch restaurant is always by her.  Recently I looked for a new sunshine spot at the parish and I realised that I would use the garden of remembrance.  So I take my lunch, and my book and my coffee.  And I sit in a different spot there each time.  With great respect. I sit. And I listen. And I remember.  And I randomly let my eyes fall on a plaque or booked spot.  And I play in my mind the story behind that plaque, that family, that moment.  There are beautiful ones and tragic ones. Angry ones and touching ones. And I always leave with a prayer for a family in particular on each time and also all those there. Each plaque and each niche has a story attached to it - and I can tell a story for every one I have worked on.  Each family is different, each story is different.  I just tell them in my mind. 

I ring the wind chimes every time and I listen.  It is not morbid.  It is not depressing.  It is a moment in which I thank God for the chance to touch these lives in a little way.  I thank God for giving me a nature of deep compassion,  I thank God for the blessing of being able to have my lunch here in the Catholic graveyard, because it is so important to me and close to my heart.

I am blessed indeed. 

till soon, be good to yourself

c'est la vie