So, it is my turn to say something about Bev, and after all the nice, and well, mostly true, things she said about me so eloquently, I feel intimidated. I say mostly true because I will never question Bev’s intelligence, with or without a frowny brow and the mouth thing I apparently do!
I met Bev on Valentines Day in 2010. She was my partner’s friend and had invited us to a Valentine’s picnic in her garden in Johannesburg. We hardly chatted that evening, because there were a few other people there, and Bev was pretty stressed out due to her emotionally abusive partner. The one thing that jumped out at me though was her wicked, sushi-knife-sharp sense of humour. You couldn’t miss it.
An interesting friendship developed in which we didn’t ever really talk about the past, but mostly about what was then the present. I suppose that present was so full of things happening, it was all we had time for. The result is that even now, after 7 years we find out things about each other that we never knew. Now I am sitting here in a brand new present, thinking of all the Bev-stories I could tell and trying to decide which I should tell. The truth is, there are too many, and I can’t choose.
There is the funny one about the dagga plant we accidentally grew many years ago. The ice-cream on the roof. The vodka-lollies while walking the dirt-roads of Fourways. The day of the eleventy-seven half beers in Edenvale, and the day Bev got into trouble for not telling someone the coals were ready to start braaiing. Christmas in July, New Year’s with Schnotka, Mystery Box practice sessions for Masterchef, and… well, this could go on for very long.
For now, as the yin-yang world we live in would have it, I am the dark voice on this blog, but I don’t have any dark stories about Bev. Many, many funny ones, yes! She is that friend I can always count on for silliness. That one adventurous friend who can tell you very seriously, on the way to a wine festival with 17 participating wine estates:
“I worked out we can realistically get to 7 wine farms today, so let’s try for 16.”
She is the one that doesn’t blink an eye before lying down in a meadow to get the perfect picture of a flower the size of a 10c coin. She will make the craziest plans with you and follow through on them.
Bev makes me cry with laughter, and she cries for me and with me when I fall apart. Then there was that one time when she could just hold me while I cried because when pain gets too intense, even your best friends don’t have words, but they are still there. Bev is pure light, even in her own darkest times. That is why I can be completely broken, shaking with the pain of betrayal and loss and dark beyond measure inside myself. Those days when I am just hiding from the world in my shack, not wanting to see anyone, I can still go out and spend a day with Bev, falling out of a car laughing.
Since Jo’burg we have both left behind the partners we had at that time, and inevitably little parts of who we used to be. Somehow we have managed, more than once, to glue our hearts back together after life happened, and we came out better at the other end. Even if I have to say so myself, we were already pretty awesome to begin with, so you should see us now! But I promised only to brag about cooking so let me stop.
I moved to the Cape first, and Bev says she knew she would see me in Cape Town soon after. A year later she self-fulfilled her prophecy. And yes Bev, that is as spiritual a statement as I am ever going to make. *Purses lips and frowns.* So here we are. There are some four hundred and fifty wine farms in the Cape. That leaves a lot of room for silliness and we are on a roll!! That, to me, is a spiritual quest!
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