The other day my sister and I thouht about the time my brother was born in 1984. I was going to be six years old that August and she turned nine in December. When my mother was in hospital we were split up, she went and stayed with my mother’s eldest sister and I had a Godmother who looked after me for that week. Somehow to this day my sister thought we were together, but we werent. It is amazing how far back one can remember if you just sit to take the time and think.
I stayed at my Godmother’s for that week. I can remember my Dad walking through the door at her house with great pride, anouncing that it was a boy. It was the time before scans and C-sections. There was enough to keep me busy. In the mornings we would bake cup cakes with my best friend at the time that happened to live across the street from the house. We made clothes for my Barbie on her hand driven Singer sewing machine. It was the best time, the time I spent waiting for my brother while my mother was in hospital.
Last I heard she was living in Frankfort in the Free State, baking cupcakes for the local church.
She must be over 70 by now.
I stayed at my Godmother’s for that week. I can remember my Dad walking through the door at her house with great pride, anouncing that it was a boy. It was the time before scans and C-sections. There was enough to keep me busy. In the mornings we would bake cup cakes with my best friend at the time that happened to live across the street from the house. We made clothes for my Barbie on her hand driven Singer sewing machine. It was the best time, the time I spent waiting for my brother while my mother was in hospital.
Last I heard she was living in Frankfort in the Free State, baking cupcakes for the local church.
She must be over 70 by now.
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