No Church and No Marriage Ceremony

Oh my word I went to church today for PROBABLY the first time in at least nine months? I can’t recall. But I went. And it reminded me how fragile my body is. I may be able to control the pain a bit better now, but I need the pain medicine. And the autoimmune aspect is permanent. I knew that. But I hate that it is real. And the fatigue is real.

I got there with great hope. I miss congregational singing, but my decades in Xhosa churches with the way we sing has spoilt my ears. Nothing sounds as majestic and emotive as amaXhosa. My ears are just too brainwashed. It’s like the white folk who look down on blaccents. 🤦🏾‍♀️So I settled for the message in the sermon. I sat right at the back so that I escape any viruses that might come to me from people singing and coughing but also had my mask as advised by my pulmonologist. And right next to me? A sneezing, unable to breathe, chesty toddler.

Sick. Right next to me. So I took the chair and went to sit behind everyone next to a window. Those of you who have had the privilege of worshipping with me (JUST KIDDING about it being a privilege!!) know I do not sit at the back. I hate it. So now I’m there alone and sitting at the super super back. Ok. Time to settle for the sermon anyway.

And my stupid “chronic, debilitating fatigue” reminded me of the many reasons I stopped going to church. I knew I am tired all the time and that I fall asleep even while teaching, but because I can’t rest as much as I should, I don’t spend enough time lying down to fall asleep unplanned. But at church, I’m sitting still. And the pain was not great. Hard plastic chairs are a no no. But even that discomfort couldn’t stop me from falling asleep multiple times. I’d even not taken my muscle relaxant because I truly thought I was sleeping because of its sleep side effect. Nope. It’s just my body fighting itself.

I hate Ankylosing spondylitis.

I’m back home and one thing I did get out of the visit was that I’m not alone. There’s a lady there who I know had hip problems and needs a hip replacement but can’t get one via government until she’s 55 years old. She’s 42! She can’t save up for it because she has children. We lamented something I had told a friend of mine recently, the more the children grow, the more expensive they become. And I STILL have diaper costs. We can’t save for anything. She too has multiple children. Five. The loneliness she feels as she can tell her husband doesn’t truly see how unwell she is is well known amongst us women.

My older friend said her husband told her she’s lucky to retire because now she can feel better because she can rest. Resting doesn’t really help us get BETTER, it just stops us feeling worse after we rest. The age old dilemma we mothers have is that if we truly do rest, the home will fall apart. Nobody will do much and it will be waiting on us. And with children who already want only us anyway, we just cannot lie down and stay in bed for some self care. We have to keep medicating, supplementing, refereeing… But because we do it without complaint, without crying, without reminding them that we are sacrificing ourselves, they then forget we are suffering.

So I got that sense of aloneness and forced busy-ness affirmed by someone else and it was validating.

Now before the church visit…

(How I was dressed)

I told the children that their father keeps refusing to take a walk with me. It’s been months of asking and being fobbed off so that’s why I ended up being vocal about it. I did once go alone but it’s just not the same now that I’m sicker. The pain stands out even more when I don’t have anything to take my mind off myself and listening to music makes me want to SING the music and though my children say I sing well, after once walking behind a squeaking, high pitched awful singer who was listening to her music, I decided to not even begin to embarrass myself by singing loudly.

He did take a walk. This morning’s walk was interesting! A Coloured older man mowing someone’s lawn stopped to tell me I look beautiful. No man (last year I asked Husband why he says nothing nice at all about me and he said at least he doesn’t say anything mean) has said that to me in ages. I should wear that outfit often. I’m not just mom. I am me too and my clothes make me look beautiful. And then he said my husband looks Pedi. Clearly the family is not racist because he has a grandson who is a Pedi and looks like my husband.

He didn’t stop there. He told us he’s a pastor and that he’s also a marriage officer. He then told us he could marry us! I told him we’ve BEEN married 22 years already so the offer is too late! He was shocked because we look very young, then told us how he’s 64 years old, been married for 44 years, and his wife “gave” him four children. He then told my husband to respect me because women are closer to God than men are. “Listen to her! God speaks to her!”

It was funny and cool.