The Number Existed

Today marks a year when Mathew introduced himself to me and within the first hour I got to know that he was not going to let me out of his sight, no matter what.

Our relationship lasted all of 8 months to the day before he passed away. Together we created many memorable moments, especially in the last three weeks of his life and he would always end it with saying "at least I got to spend more time with you". It was only after his passing did I realise how much those words meant for him and what it would mean for me.

All Mathew ever wanted from anyone was that they walked beside him and not judge him. I often got told, "I don't want you in front of me, I don't want you behind me, I just want you beside me (glancing to his left side) holding my hand". He thanked me for being there in his darkest hours and giving him the peace he so longed for and the belief that he was going to be okay. We never hid our relationship behind closed doors. Instead, wherever we went, he would tell people I am his wife and that we have four children and one grandson. I would just either give him a look and shake my head or go along as it made him happy to be part of a family as this was very important for him. One such occasion was the day we sat at Kalky’s in Kalk Bay and there was this couple with their two young children, one a baby and the wife was expecting her third baby any day soon. They had come out for the day so that their oldest son could learn to fish with his new fishing rod and Mathew immediately offered to show the young boy (probably about 7) how to fish because this was one of his talents besides being a brilliant guitar player, cook, motivator, story-teller etc. We struck up a conversation with them in the process and I was again introduced as his wife and that we have four children and one grandson. This was in the last week of his life.

That last week of his life was filled with events to make sure I never forget him - long drives, dancing, breakfast, lunch and supper, singing together, long chats, sitting on the pier at Hout Bay eating magnums, sharing his favorite meal at Simply Asia. Twice that week he cooked me my favorite meal - tripe and trotters, the last one he finished at 1am in the morning the day before he passed away. He called me at that hour to say he had just finished cooking it. I realised a few minutes later that he probably wanted me to come down to him at that moment but only did so later that morning. He said he needed to speak to me, just like he kept saying so in the last three weeks, but kept changing his mind about telling me. I sensed it was serious, but was not going to push him to say it.

In our last conversation (21 October 2018), the day before he passed away, he reminded me again as he always did on the 21st of each month except for the 21st of September (which is a story for another day - maybe) - of how we met. "I did not just meet you by accident but by the Grace of God, as I was in a very dark space that night and saw you radiating a light and felt I needed to follow you. So when I saw you about to play the lotto, I decided to do the same again, so that I could catch your attention" - he succeeded.  (For the skeptics out here, yes I recognise charm and I can tell you now there was no charm in this moment, here was a man genuinely reaching out for a listening ear) - Even my daughter (who was watching this from the car) noticed the connection we had made.  She was shocked when I told her it was a stranger, "saying but the two of you looked like you were in your zone".  

Even though Mathew and I shopped at Spar Rosmead on many occasions or had so many mutual connections, we never ran into each until that night.  Both of us being religious in our own right, we believed it was by God's Grace that it was meant to be.  

How I met Mathew

Wednesday, 21 February 19:50 was just like any other night when I would rush into my local Spar on Rosmead Avenue, Kenilworth (well so I thought) to get some basics.  All I wanted was to go and buy bread and eggs but was distracted by the Lotto machine as I was about to pass it at the entrance of the shop which changed my life forever. "One day is One day", is all we keep hearing, so this was the day (well night) so to speak that changed my life forever.

There I was standing in the queue waiting to play my numbers when the man in front of me pipes up with "sorry, you were ahead of me", as much I said 'no, I wasn't', he insisted I was, so I went ahead of him. This was the start of a relationship that was going to last all of eight months. That night we parted ways after chatting for almost an hour and two bunches of flowers later with the request that I call him and still no eggs and bread bought. In the first hour of meeting Mathew van (as in "truck" and not "from" as in Afrikaans) der Berg, I got to know that he loved the colour purple, his children, music, red wine, whisky, his father (who had passed away), God, fishing, where he worked and lived.

Our first date was the very next night after a miscommunication in where we were going to meet for lunch (another story for another day).

Like most relationships, we had our teething problems, but we were there for each other through all the challenges we had both faced during 2018 (for better or for worse) – our slogan was “Help Mekaar”.

The End

I was not allowed to be at his funeral because this would mean for some people acknowledging that I existed in his life. So on the day of his funeral I wrote the following:

Dear Mathew

Today your family and friends get to say their final goodbyes to you. I would prefer to remember our last days and nights together as your final goodbye to me.

These past few weeks were the best and most exciting times we had together, because we had finally accepted that half a relationship was better than none at all. You got to live your best life in these past few weeks. Yes, there were times you hated, especially when we had to dodge the proverbial bullet.

I never thought that I would get to love so deeply again, but you showed me it was possible. The many lessons you taught me, the belief and confidence you instilled in me that I can do anything because I have a wealth of knowledge, I am creative and talented.

Our last goodbye sitting under the trees on Rondebosch Common was a wrap up of how far we had come and where we were going.

When I look back on our last conversation, I know now, you knew it was going to be the last time you saw me - saying "I am no longer 25, I am 26 and I don't have long to live".

You asked me as you did a few times before "Do you know your purpose" and my answer was, 'Yes I do, and it scares me'. My purpose is to come into your life for as long as I am needed to be there so that you can find your way. You did find your way and you were ready for the journey however final it was going to be.

Last week you said "when will I receive my reward" and I said 'God will let you have it when you are ready to receive it'. You said you were ready. Your reward was to have the peace and happiness you longed for. You turned to me and said "you are the peace and calmness you bring to my life". You didn't want to see me cry or you were going to walk away and so I held back my tears to avoid you doing so. Now my tears flow for all the love we shared. The many memories we created, from our first sunset in Camps Bay to our last dance in the parking area of Muizenberg.

There will never be pain and suffering for you to endure any longer. No more sitting up at night, struggling to breathe or screaming in pain. Your heart, your mind and soul are now free from all the earthly challenges. You lived your life with strong intent 100%. And as you would always say, "all dogs go to heaven, and except for a few humans". I believe you are one of the few who made it there. After all, who is going to keep God on his toes, dancing to the many tunes you can play?

I know you loved me and this was evident at the end of our conversation when I said to you 'all I wanted to do today, was put my arms around you and say how can I make your day better'. Your response was "you already have, by just being here”.

Until we meet again. Love Cecilé-Ann” (Perhaps at Spar Heaven)

In memory of Mathew who lived his life with strong intent 100% 

6 August 1964 to 22 October 2018

NOTE TO SPOUSES: When you take a vow in marriage to be there for each other, in the good and the bad times, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, then be there.  Don’t push someone aside or even right out of the marital home when you can’t handle the bad times, the sickness or the lack of wealth. Make it or break it, but don’t hold on for the sake of denying someone the right to happiness or for selfish reasons, you are only denying yourself the right to happiness too.