1964: LE Goddard

While a few hundred students were writing their Afrikaans and English exams in Brebner High School’s Bell Hall, I walked between them, my eyes drifting to the light coming through the doors and windows. Invigilating for 2 hours is boring work, and soon my attention began to drift to the framed photos, trophy cabinets, and the wooden plaques on the walls.

I’d wandered up and down, between the rows of concentrating learners, for some time when my eyes were caught by these gold letters:
LE Goddard. And the date, 1964.
This was on a board titled:
Senior Prefects

LE is for Leonie Elizabeth, and in those initials the prediction of her marital surname, van der LEek. I also saw a Wayne van der Leek, at 1987, but as far as I know, he is no relation of ours.

I felt the bitter irony welling up in me that none of us, neither my brother or me, or my sister were even as much as a prefect (nor was my father for that matter), and yet, LE Goddard is lying in a cemetery on the outskirts of Bloemfontein today. My mother. She who had the affection and admiration of her peers, the love of her community. She, who was a strong athlete and a beautiful young girl, both inside and out. She’s dead, and here we are, hers son and daughter, her husband, still living.

Standing there, in the quietude, with the downcast faces scribbling around me, I suddenly caught a glimpse of the sparkling girl, with her shining eyes and dark bouncing ponytail.

It saddened me, once again, that her life, that seemed to start off so well, ended with such tragedy. Mine in contrast, got stuck early on, in a hellish high school existence, a quagmire of confusion and despair. And here I am, with things so different…

What would my mother think, or say, if she came to fetch me from my work today. If she stood beside me in the hall? I don’t know, and I’ll never know.

I walked in the hall for some time, with her name, in gold, floating above me. I probably owe my having the job that I have, to her, since I noted at the top of my CV, My mother, Leonie Goddard, was Headgirl at Brebner High School. The principal mentioned this when I was introduced to the staff. It occurred to me then that they might ask, “Well, where is she now? How is she? What is she doing?”
All I can say is that I can’t make up for someone else’s unhappiness. No one can. But we can be responsible for our own happiness.

We can learn the lessons of life. If the chapters after the introduction were filled with disappointment and wretchedness, as mine were, at least we have experienced it. At least we have seen what happens to us when we are unhappy. That is how we begin to find and to chose a new set of circumstances. The heart is a muscle, and what doesn’t kill us, can make us stronger, especially when we can stand to listen to the silent truth where it meets us in the emptiness of the hall.

I have learned some lessons, but they have come at a price. At least I have learned, and am still learning my own lessons. What better place to learn a few lessons than at school? I’ve learned the value of loyalty, of family – the pain of brokenness, the waste of yearning for the past, waiting for circumstances to change, making comparisons. There’s no comparison – there’s just you, and your life. Do something with it. What talents do you have? What can you do? Where is your passion? What do you want? No go and do something with all of it. Go now.

I’ve learned how to make things happen with my life. I’ve learned that the only place where we can do anything, or change anything, is now. I’ve learned the best person to change, and the best place to start, is me. And as long as we are alive, there are opportunities for fresh starts. Even in difficulty, lies opportunity.

So then, all I can do with my life is to grow away from the shadow of the past, towards the sun. All I can do, for those around me, is leave behind the shadow. Let it go. I can shine my life at the world, and hope the light that shines back, shines me towards a life worth living.