These Endless Summer Days
“I'm learning to live without you now
And the more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I figured out
I have to learn again” - Don Henley
2 December 2023… Seven years ago, it was a day pretty much like today. A Friday. Sweltering heat underneath sapphire blue skies. There was a collective hush of small talk on creaking garden chairs and the relentless song of cicadas in the ancient trees. Cumulus clouds were gathering in the mid-day heat and the mountains of the Vredefort Dome were alive with yellow Acacia blossom. Bob Dylan, Don Henley, Josh Ritter, Jason Isbell, Jeffrey Foucault and Jackson Browne set the mood and I was staring at the very small wedding party made up of about thirty denim clad family members. A prairie wedding planned and payed for by the two of us. Not a single fight, not a single breakdown. Our family and friends gave us a hand and the scene was set for a memorable celebration. Grandma and Grandpa and my father in law were still alive and the kids were young and beautiful playing in the shallow end of the swimming pool. Our mothers and siblings were making sure the tables were set, dad had a lamb over red hot coals and the ice tubs were filled with wine, beer and soft drinks. Next to me Rufus sat, tuning his guitar.
We heard the car approaching on the corrugated dirt road, the V8 in my ‘67 Galaxie roaring like a panther as Dad floored it on the straight and came skidding into the venue just in time for the ceremony. Dad doesn’t move as fast as he used to but he was out and around the car in no time and opened the back door. My heart skipped a beat as she came walking towards me. She had a borrowed wedding dress that fitted perfectly, revealing her elegant shoulders, cowboy boots and flowers in her trademark, magnificent hair. She smiled at me, took my hand and we walked toward the arch her daughters decorated with wild flowers and willow branches. We said our vows, sang songs to each other, thanked our people and celebrated life and love while the Northwest sun dropped behind Venterskroon’s highest peaks in an explosion of pink and orange.
A lot happened in the years since that day. Several family members are gone, the kids are grown and we are all a little older. Life continued in its mysterious way and I lost her along the way. I’m still reeling from the loss and still looking for the lessons I was supposed to learn. I try to be better and take ownership of my mistakes and my contribution to the demise of something so beautiful. I refuse to be resentful and I’m often reminded that I perhaps listened to too many opinions instead of talking to the person that actually mattered. I often wonder if I could have fought a little harder, waited a little longer. Futile thoughts I know, but eating at my soul nonetheless. This is not an attempt and useless nostalgia, merely an account of how I really feel. I really don't care about what people think about this reflection, I'm just trying to say that people walk away, love doesn't.
These days I am more grateful for everything and everyone good in my life and I try to learn from the bad times, toxic people and mistakes the best I can. I try to be someone my friends and family can rely on and be proud of. Decembers are particularly difficult for some. A time where people seem to forget who they are in their quest of material things, shopping and excess. A time where people miss loved ones, pine for lost lovers and scrounge for something or someone to ease the pain, hunger and longing.
It is my wish that you and your family will have a peaceful festive season. Thank you for coming to the shows, reading this blog and supporting my artistic endeavours.
Till next year
JB
