My Mother

I cannot believe that it is only a month since I last posted on my blog. It feels like a year! So much has happened, and I suppose the best place to start is at the beginning.

Sunday - 25^th April 2010

We took my mother to see the doctor. She had been complaining for days of a pain in her back which kept shifting from place to place. Once examined, the doctor found she had shingles, and was also dehydrated. At 83, he felt he needed to admit her for tests to make sure she was ok.

Monday - 26^th April 2010

My cell phone rang beside my bedside at 4am in the morning. Like a bolt of lightning I grabbed it, just knowing that a call at this time of the morning could only be bad news. With bated breath I heard the voice identifying herself as sister “so and so” from Robinson Life Hospital. She needed to inform me that my mother had gone to the bathroom and tripped over her drip stand. She had broken her femur bone in the right leg and would need to be operated on. My heart raced, at the thought of anesthetic with my mother at 83. I knew this could not be good. Four years ago, she had also fallen and crushed her right shoulder, and had a replacement. Having nursed her then, and remembering how difficult it was to pull her up out of bed, I felt this dead dull dread in my heart, how would I cope with this?

As there were no beds available in ICU, they strapped my mother’s leg up, and she had to wait until the following day to go into theater. We rushed through that morning, as early as we could, and found her under heavy sedation for the pain.

Tuesday – 27^th April 2010

My mother was operated on early in the morning. My Father and I, my sister & her husband, two brothers with their wives, and my two daughters all sat waiting in the hospital lounge just outside ICU. The atmosphere was tense, as we were unsure of what to expect. Eventually we were allowed to go in to see my mother, but only two at a time.

It was not a pleasant sight. Monitors beeping, oxygen mask over her face, drips and pipes hanging like spaghetti from their stands. She was breathing shallow, but managed to open her eyes and greet us. The news was not good; she had a very bad break and another less sever lower down on the leg. A steel pin had been inserted from the knee, fastened with two screws, all the way up the leg to the hip, then another very long screw that fastened the pin onto the hip bone.

That night, at 8.55pm, I received a phone call from my cousin in George in the Cape, to let me know that my mother’s eldest sister, aunt Minnie had died. I wept, as she was like a second mother to me, and her and my mother were very close. How was I to tell my mother, in her state? I was afraid it would have a devastating impact upon her. Even though we had been expecting this news for some time now, the shock of her death was no easier had we not known. My sister and I discussed the matter, and decided we would not tell my mother at this stage. We were not even sure she would understand.

We were told that my mother would be in ICU for a day or two… it turned out to be 7days in total, under extreme sedation and morphine for the pain, she started to hallucinate. Doctors do not tell you this, and do not warn you either. It was a very scary time for us, as we thought she had gone totally insane. She was hearing things & seeing things that did not exist …It was devastating to see her like this … but there is much more to the saga which I will continue in the next blog and will perhaps help others understand their loved ones in a situation such as this!

FARM ATTACK!

18th September 2009, 4.30pm. A date that would be burned into my memory forever!
My parents and I had just returned to the farm after a day of shopping. I parked my car in front of the garage, and told my parents to wait while I went in to call the maid
to help us with the packages. As I opened the side gate to the back yard, I saw Danie lying on the grass under the washing line, with three black men around him.

I instinctively thought he was having a heart attack, and that the farm labourers were trying
to help him. Fear gripped me, and I called out to him, "Sweetheart, are you OK?" and started to run towards him. As Danie lifted his head and turned towards me, I saw the blood and heard him shout in desperation "Run Dia, run!" I then realised something was very wrong, as I sensed the urgency in his voice. My mind went haywire, and I turnedand started to run, grabbing the gate to close it behind me. The next minute I was looking down the barrel of a pistol, and was grabbed with force at the neck of my blouse. The man kept twisting my blouse until I was walking on my toes in an attempt to breathe.

I was in total shock, and a voice demanded "Where are the pistols, where are your guns?"
While hitting me at the side of my head, he pushed me towards the back door of our house. At that moment I knew, we were in great danger. The man forced me into our house still muttering and demanding me to give him guns. I walked down the passage to our bedroom, and trying to play for time, I told him, I had not been married to Danie for long, so did not know where he kept the keys to the safe. I could sense, that the man was getting frustrated, and at that moment the two other men dragged Danie into the bedroom, with his hands and feet bound with nylon rope.

In our country, having slogans blatantly promoted in Youth Ralleys and over TV - "Kill the farmer, kill the boer!" you suddenly realise that you could become one of the statistics. They sat me down on our bed, with my back to Danie, and began hitting him and shouting "Open the safe! Where are the keys! Open or we will kill her!" I hear the gun cock against my head and the man swears, then again says, "I kill you!" I hear Danie pleading "Please, do not hurt my wife, I will give you what you want"

"Quick, quick, hurry, open up" they keep whispering in urgent tones. I hear the key turn in the safe, and hear the excitement in their voices, guns, ammunition, money ... everything they want.

As I sat on the bed, with the gun against my head, I suddenly realised, now they have what they want, they have no more use for us! I began to pray out loud, and Danie did the same. The men were disturbed by this, and asked us "What are you doing?" Danie said "We are praying". As I prayed, I heard myself say ... "Father, forgive them, they do not realise what they are doing is wrong" Where did that come from? I would much rather have prayed that they get struck by lightening.

The three men, grabbed everything they could get in the safe, stuffing their pockets with as much ammunition as they could. As they began leaving the room, one of the robbers knelt in front of me, and asked me what was in my bedside drawer, and demanded I open it or he would shoot me. I told him it was only my bible and glasses.

In a flash,they were gone ... Danie loosened himself and ran outside but they were nowhere to be seen. Now I was frantic, where were my parents? What if they had taken them hostage? I ran to the window but my parents were no longer in the car. I felt my heart gripped with fear, and ran to the front door. I opened it and there they stood safe and sound. My father had walked my mother to the front door, and when he found it locked said he would go around the back to open up for her. He took some parcels out of the car, walked into the house, and as he set them down, he saw the men dragging Danie down the passage. My father also thought Danie had been hurt
and that labourers were helping him, but then he saw the guns, and Danie shouted to him to get out of the house. My father then ran back to my mother and told her to stand dead still as we were being robbed inside.

I can just imagine the fear they must have felt. Both in their eighties, and their daughter and son in law being held at gunpoint inside.

Do I hate our attackers? Do I want to immigrate to another country and leave South Africa? Have I become a racist after this? My answer is NO! I love my country, and I refuse to live in fear. Many people have told me to go for counselling, but I feel that if I could survive the death of my daughter (killed in a motor accident - by a black driver of a mini bus) then I can survive this too!

When you read of how many woman are raped in farm attacks, how people are cruelly tortured and then killed, I can only thank my Father in Heaven for His divine protection, when we needed it the most!

These men had come to the farm earlier on that day, with the pretense of wanting to purchase a sheep. Danie told them, they were still out in the fields, but that they would be in the "kraal" later on ... so they waited, and watched and noticed that Danie was alone on the farm. When the sheep were finally in, Danie told them to come with him so that they could choose their sheep. As Danie opened the gate to the 'kraal" and walked in, they grabbed him from behind and began
beating him. They kicked him, and hit him with their pistols, and kept saying to one another "Let us kill him now!" They then bound his hands and feet and dragged him to the lawn, and that is when I came through the gate.

No arrests have been made, and we have not heard from the police in a while, not that we think anything will come of this. The mere fact that these men did not hide their faces from us, nor did they wear gloves to avoid any fingerprints makes one wonder? When the police came that night to investigate and found not one finger print ... well what can I say! Do they really care? We have no guns now for protection ... but all we want to do is put it behind us and carry on with our lives.