November 27

The shoulder pain is much better.  I can’t believe how well I slept last night. 

There is a lot on social media about being positive and feeling grateful for what you have. Sometimes, I feel many of these messages are a bit glib.  In the political and economic climate in which we live, so much is against you from the start, never mind your own personal experiences which may make you feel more depressed. 

The happiness gurus will tell you that one of the biggest problems with human beings is that they are never satisfied with their lot; we are always looking for more.  We begin our thoughts with the words ‘I’ll be happy when . . .’ I feel another idiosyncrasy is that we connect happiness to material possessions, although we know that some of the unhappiest people are extremely wealthy.  The irony here is that those people have nothing more to aim for because they can have everything and therefore their lives are made glaringly empty.  Those of us who can lie in bed at night, dreaming of having enough money to paint the walls or replace the carpet at least have something to keep ourselves going.

               There are two steep roads in Bulawayo; there may be more, but I cannot think of them. One is in the middle of town by the High Court ( a favourite with driving school instructors) and the other is in Suburbs, running from Park road up to Duncan road. Driving up the hill today, I notice an elderly woman in a wheelchair being pushed by an equally elderly man.  I stop and very generously offer them Sian and her friend’s help, but the man waves us on.

‘I am actually very fit,’ he smiles, ‘but thank you for asking.  Have a lovely day.’

I drop Sian and her friend at a house on Duncan road and, as I am reversing, the couple come sailing along the road.  I have no idea how they managed to get up the hill so fast. It is quite incredible.  The man is obviously quite right when he says he is fit.

Along Winnie’s Way there is a man who spends the entire day standing next to potholes that he has filled in with sand.  If I ever have change, and that is rare, I stop and give him something.  He is always very chirpy and very grateful for the smallest of coins.  Even if I do not stop, he always waves and gives me a thumbs up sign. Little does he know that he is in a short story I wrote.

In the evening we go to a carol concert at Ellie’s school.  It is hot, but the singing is beautiful.  The opening carol is When a Child is Born.  ‘A ray of hope flickers through the sky.’ Perhaps I am just tired, or maybe it’s because I love this carol, but I have a sudden urge to cry.  I think of the elderly couple waving me on and the man who fills in potholes giving me a thumbs up.  There is much to be grateful for.