The Optimist | For Shaun

The Optimist | For Shaun

He would have readily forsaken all politics and idealistic philosophies for one more day with those he loved more than boundaries.

The Optimist | For Shaun

A few months ago, a vibrant, enthusiastic young man was given six weeks to live. An aggressive form of cancer.  His wife and young daughters were with him in Australia. His parents in South Africa. A brother in the United States. Botswana mentioned. This is the predicament of migrating families, when tragedy strikes, the supporting threads of familial closeness are stretched far and wide.

The young family tried valiantly to cope on their own; friends offered solace but there is nothing quite like the understanding of a sibling when the nights are darkest and hope fades despite reaching for a miracle; that all the signs will change.  This is what I hate most about cancer — we can find our way around the Sahara on a camel with a GPS but to kill those cells still eludes us. The medical fraternity closed it doors and spoke of ‘being comfortable.’

A benefactor secured a place at a clinic in South Africa where alternative healing may prolong the life of this man with still so much to accomplish. Plans were made and funds raised to assist an already weak and exhausted loved one on the long flight. This meant leaving behind his wife and children, and the possibility that they may never see each other again.  Who could ever understand that level of pain?

His mother and family were there to receive him, at last able to hold a sick child and sibling. For months they were only imagining the level of deterioration from afar. How can one begin to imagine the fear of not knowing and being able to comfort? Guilt for distance?

Shaun fought so terribly hard against the injustice of his short life. He did not see his wife and children again, but his mother was there to hold her little boy at the end.

Why am I telling you this story? Last weekend a memorial was held for Shaun on the most beautiful farm in the Cape Winelands.  Friends from around the world, early school days to racing days gathered to honour his life and be there for his family. A bittersweet  day. And no-one stopped to ask why Shaun was living in Australia, whether he had forsaken his ‘country’ or had the right to call himself anything at all. He would have readily forsaken all politics and idealistic philosophies for one more day with those he loved more than boundaries.

There were many others close to him who could not be there on that day. A plethora of reasons have taken us all over the world, and many not by choice but by circumstance of marriage and employment for example. Life is messy; the best laid plans change in an instant and will again and again. And no, I have no idea what my future holds or where I shall be but location does not make one more or less a citizen of the place you hold in your heart. I have every right to live my life where I chose and still love, get frustrated and fight for the country I grew up in. The right to do what is best for my family and ultimately the right to ‘go home’ — where ever that may be.

I could not be there for Shaun, his family and my daughter — it hurts. But enough of this subject. Optimistic that next week I may write about crocheting, doilies, mustard lettuce and vibrators.