My first Sunday Mass at age two attended with my two brothers, Alfred and Edmund (Eddie).
We played outside in our meandering stream, rocked around in our dubious homemade boat, trudged through the mud, nature was our magical playground. I have an ambivalence recalling those early memories of me tied up to our ‘go to’ mango tree, with thick, tight, knotted ropes around my tiny waist and a super large tree trunk. It was their ’big brother’ way of babysitting ‘little sister.’ It was not long before I squealed, dehydrated in the heat of the unforgiving, humid, Durban sun. It was no fun (and yes, it was). I still dislike the feeling of being ‘tied up’ or ‘locked down.’ Ostensibly they included me in ‘playing a game with me as their ‘hostage.’ The penny soon dropped. It was merely their creative way of going off and having ‘boys only time.’ Happily, we have weathered well. The gift of our common bond went beyond the notion of family. My siblings and I formed deep friendships, an unshakable support system that stands the test of time.