Extended Families Bring their Own Blessing

Luky;
My sister and I were walking near her home in Springs one day when a plane passed overhead. "There goes my heart's treasure," she said. I was not surprised at her words, although she had both her feet planted on terra firma and as a rule eschewed lyrical effusions. For I knew that two of her daughters were air hostesses working on the same flight. That they still have two brothers and a sister would not have made up for their loss if the plane had crashed.

Large family
I came from a large family myself. My mother was one of ten living children and my father one of eight. My earliest recollections are of visiting particularly my maternal grandparents and being passed from lap to lap by my attractive, trendy young aunts and uncles.

 When I cried on leaving Holland, their old-fashioned mother with her hair in a bun and her long black dressed surprised me by saying: "Wipe your tears. What with all these vliegmachines they have these days, we're bound to see more of you in the future." I was surprised she knew about such things. She died before I returned.

Paltry crew
Though I soon learned to love South Africa, I have often felt isolated. The warmth of the extended family gives one a confidence and sense of security that is irreplaceable. Arriving in Cape Town, we four children followed our parents. Every few minutes they would turn arounc and count heads: One, two, three, four. We had become a paltry little crew.

In due course we married. Between us we have eighteen children, many children in law and grandchildren. The latter again experience the wealth of having grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. The warm sense of family handed on to us during our youth is being bequeathed to our own. It is a luxury only those whose children have in their turn emigrated abroad can truly appreciate. For no loving memory can replace a kiss, a touch or a warm hug from one's own.

Dumbfounded
My eldest daughter visited Ireland some years ago and met her father's family whom she had last seen in 1966. As they met her at the airport, my in-laws just stared at her, dumbfounded. "You're the living image of our mother," they said when they finally found their voice. She felt enriched and heart-warmed at these words.

Surprise flight
Another of my daughters had a thrill locally. She was flying up from college to visit us when one of her cousins happened to be on duty. She was introduced to the crew. My husband was most surprised to see her stepping down from the plane, animatedly chatting to a pilot and an air hostess.
One day when both her daughters were working together on an internal flight to Cape Town, my sister decided to surprise them and bought a ticket from Johannesburg. Of course she too was taken and introduced to the crew. When she returned to her seat, a fellow passenger commented on the resemblance between my nieces. Prompted by that irresistible urge to exult that overwhelms mothers at school prize-givings and on grandstands, my sister said: "Well, you see, they're sisters. And I'm their mother." "Oh I'm sure," the man replied ironically. "And I'm the flight captain."