Reflections

This past weekend, I returned from a two week trip to Cape Town. My parents grew up in South Africa, and due to a series of life events - it’s where I was born too.

I hadn’t been back in nearly 20 years, for a whole host of reasons. It’s really far, I still have a tonne of mixed feelings (primarily guilt) around apartheid and post-apartheid SA, I’ve always been bad about taking time off work etc. etc.

But I had two reasons to go this time. My cousin’s 50th birthday, and a vow I made to myself when I moved in to care for my dad - that I would bring a piece of him back to his late parents and brother and sister.

Air travel is not exactly pleasant these days, but still - it’s impossible not to be awed by stepping on a plane, and two days later being more than halfway around the world from where you started.

I arrived late on a Saturday night, and the next morning I was up and ready to do what I came for. I visited the Jewish cemetery in Pinelands with my cousin, and placed stones I had taken from my parents’ backyard on my dad’s parents and siblings graves. I visited all the family I’ve lost since the last time I was there, the hardest being my cousin Jaime Rose, taken by cancer just before she turned 13.

After we stopped at Clifton Beach, where my dad spent summers as a kid, and I collected shells and mother of pearl to bring back to him.

I didn’t really have time to consider the meaning of it all, as the next day we were on the road for a mini road trip and to a game lodge.

My cousin Phillip took me to a monkey sanctuary and an elephant sanctuary. I hugged an elephant, cooed to her like she was a baby - I don’t know what Christmas feels like, but I imagine something like this, combined with your birthday and the best day of your life.

But, it’s always been my dream to see both free roaming elephants and whales in the wild.

Our first night on the game drive, we saw cheetahs, and had a drink with four giraffes less than twenty metres behind us. It was magical. Still, I was determined to see elephants. When we got into the jeep for our morning drive, I told our guide Eugene that today ‘I must see some elephants’. We only had two drives. It was my last chance.

Eugene lived up his promise, and we saw a small herd of elephants on the drive. But then - when we were having breakfast. Another herd starting walking towards us in the distance.

Then, as we were driving out the lodge ourselves, these same elephants escorted us out. They were right in front of our car. It was beautiful.

On my second last day, I went to Gansbaai, about two and half hours outside of Cape Town for a whale watching tour. Within about two minutes of the boat leaving the dock, we spotted our first southern right whale. The guide said he’d never seen one that close to the boat this early into the tour. But at this point, I wasn’t even surprised.

I struggled to hold back tears and remind myself to be present and enjoy the moment. Who knows if I would ever be back, and this is what I came to see. Still, it was hard not to believe that something bigger was at play.

This past year since my dad passed has been a struggle, the pandemic, grieving - but the toughest part for me has been an unwelcome recalling of his final hours. It would pop into my head unbidden when trying to sleep, or exercising. I hated that my brain kept choosing to focus on it, and then I would torture myself wondering if I had done everything I could have.

I needed this trip for so many reasons. A respite from overwork, from the absurd amount of time I’ve spent alone over the past few years, from the dark thoughts I was desperate to excise.

I’ve never really known what I believe, or how spiritual I am. But too much of this trip felt too perfect to just be luck. The elephants, the whales. Even my failure to finish climbing Lion’s Head. My guide was a lovely woman who I really bonded with. We had a wonderful and meaningful conversation over coffee before I went up Table Mountain. The time I spent with cousins I haven’t seen in years. Even every day being sunny until the day I left.

I felt my dad in the background. I think he was saying thank you, but also that it was time to move forward. ‘Here - some elephants. Here, some whales are going to swim right up to you. Every night will have a spectacular sunset, which you love. I’m making your dreams come true. And now I need you to be okay.’

I know that losing a parent is something you never fully get over. I know I will have many more bad moments. But a weight was lifted. I got to take off some of the load and leave it in Cape Town. And I feel lighter than I have in a long time.

Thank you dad. Thank you.