Miss ME??
Between being a patient, a bridesmaid, mourning, and growing-up I just had to be on the down-low.

No need to answer, I know you did.

It's been a few good months since I last updated the blog and I must say I'm glad I've finally found the time, strength and topic to post a brand new entry again.
A lot has happened since my disapperance from the face of the blogging world.

First, I spent a whole week in hospital. Something about cysts on my ovary.
That s*** scares me to death. There's nothing I want more than kidz in this lifetime.
See, I am a happy average, I don't want to be the richest person alive.
I don't want fast cars, champagne and caviar.
I also don't want to be remember for anything beyond my personality.
I know I am a proffesional and I know if I were to die tomorrow, some people would remember me for loving my job and hopefully some of you will remember me for giving it my all too.
That's okay.

What would bother me is if I left this earth tomorrow and no one had anything to say or remember about Itumeleng, me, the woman, the person, the friend, sister, aunt, daughter, niece, cousin, better half.

A want to live a fulfilled life and nothing would fulfill my existence like having a family of my own, I'd even kill to be a mother.

Nuf said about my ovaries - I have a doctor's appointment soon and depending on the outcome they might have to chop and change stuff. You do get what I'm saying right?????

Second - My brother got married and his wife asked me to be one of her 8 bridesmaids.

The wedding was off-the-hook.

It was fun but please understand when I say I never want to do this again. Never.

Here is what I looked like on that day.

Third - The country also went into a state of emergency when all civil servant took to the streets and demanded a wage/salary increase.
That took long enough to solve. It put a lot of things, lives and pride on the edge.
Didn't think it affected me much until it really affected me.

Fourth- My father got sick, really sick, I mean really, really sick.

"Papa wa kula jou"("Dad is sick man") My brother says to me one evening.
"When did you see him" I ask
"Day before yesterday" Kagiso replies.
I knew what was wrong, and damn it felt like deja vu.

The exact thing had happened round about the same time last year - TB.
And because my father never took care of himself, he never actually recovered.
One year later, the desease had become deadly and the lecacy of smoking and drinking - painful.
My sister and I then agreed that we'd go see him as soon as the weekend.
Let's just say- the weekend was not good enough.
By the time we got to him, he was looking at death right in the eye, so he was rushed to hospital.
He was not himself. Different in every sense of the word. I was shocked, I'd never seen anyone that sick. He couldn't even speak.

Unfortunately he landed in hospital during the strike - no nurses, few doctors and damn it hurt.
We kept on visiting him and he was getting better.
I remember on Monday 11/06/07 when my sister Nina and I went to see him. He was smiling and responding to our questions the best way he could then.
That same night, I get a callback from my sister - I ignore it.
Another one - I ignore it. From my brother, and then I call Nina.

She gave it to me straight - 'Papa o tlhokofetse'. Suddenly, everything was beyond me.
I couldn't keep it together.

Round II of my beef with the strike came when we realised that home affairs was closed, which means we couldn't get a death certificate = we couldn't claim from insurance policies.
The support we got from friend during that time will never ever be forgotten.
It's at times like these we realise just how blessed we are.

Jimi and family, Refilwe, Smanga, Mokgadi, Lerato, Katli, Pontsho and family, the Malokas, Adam and Ntsako, good friends of Weekend Live, Thando, Promise, Nino, Sindy, Nkhensani, Boo and all your friends and family and everyone else who stood by me and my family- I CAN'T THANK YOU ENOUGH.

My best friend Henry was all the way ko States when I lost Bra Percy...
I could have used a hug from him, actually - I needed him (lump.....).

While shooting at the WindyBrow Theatre recently, I came across 2 pieces by my dad, this is one of them.
This is how he saw himself back in the 1980's.

He was a character in his own comic strip - The Free Spirit.

Another frame from The Free Spirit.
Free Spirit again.

Anyways. When I was asked to speak about my dad at his memorial service and funeral, I decided to tell nothing but the truth about him. I was out of sugar so I didn't coat anything.

I spoke about Percy Sedumedi as I knew him. The creative, the teacher, the free spirit, the artist, the alchoholic, the pot-head, the good friend but crap father. Don't get me wrong, my father was a very intelligent individual, he was the most creative person I know and nothing and no-one could take away the FREE SPIRIT in him. He taught me how to be bold, inquisitive, unafraid and to question things. For that and his friendship, I will never forget him.

I learned a lot about being a grown-woman during the week I lost and buried my dad.

That's me and one of the most significant incidents in my life. I'm sure there'll be more, I just hope I'll have the strength to deal with what lies ahead - LIFE.



I came across this article http://narratingchange.blogspot.com/2007/06/great-artist-who-drew-in-blood-tribute_28.html a few weeks after my father's passing. It almost brought me to tears, I guess that's the kind of power the truth can have on us.