Happiness and smiles as my baby brother gets hitched!!!!!!!

(This is the first part of a post on my brother's wedding. I hope to do another post with more detail in the near future إن شاء الله)

On Saturday my baby brother, Sh. (aged 30, but to me he'll always be my baby bro) got married. The date for his wedding had only been set a few short weeks ago, so much preparation had had to be done in a very limited space of time.

One of the major changes was that my other brother, Is. (aged 37ish) and his family were to move into my mother's house (with my mother) after the wedding, while the groom-to-be and his new wifey would move into the smaller adjacent property in which Is. had been staying since his own wedding 10 years ago. Needless to say, the weeks preceding the wedding were filled with much hustle and bustle and emotional moments, as those involved suddenly found themselves needing to adjust to huge changes in their lives.

It was decided that, contrary to tradition, our family and our guests would be hosted by the brides family at their home. What a generous gesture on their part!

My mother was left with having to get the house ready for the bridal couple (with particular emphasis on the bruidskamer (bridal chamber / honeymoon suite), since it is custom for the family and friends to meet at and view the room after the nikah (wedding ceremony) and reception have taken place. (This is usually accompanied by prayer/s, short speech/es and well wishes given by a respected elder/s, but we did not plan to do this, as it is merely customary and not obligated by Islam.)

My mother was so lucky to have had some amazing helpers to assist her with these preparations. My sister-in-law, Mf. was absolutely extraordinary in that she managed to conduct her own move across to my mother's house, but then also took charge of the interior decorating of the bridal couple's new home.

My mother also relied heavily on Sh.'s close friends who ran errands, carried, fixed and just basically were at the family's beck and call for the entire process. How blessed they are to have such unselfish people in their lives!

On Friday morning (the morning before the wedding), in executing last minute wedding arrangements, Sh. - our then-groom-to-be - suffered a little accident when a faulty boot-lid of a car fell on his hand, breaking a few bones. The poor thing was rushed to hospital and, since it was a public hospital, that is where he spent the entire day before his wedding. His hand was bound in a cast and he was sent home with instructions to return on Monday when he would undergo an operation.


The morning of the wedding arrived and I was even more nervous than my brother was (and he was nervous!). I so much wanted everything to go well for him - on the day, and in his marriage. I prayed desperately that the Almighty grant him happiness - I so much wanted him to feel contentment, peace and joy - I don't even recall praying so hard for myself on the morning of my own wedding.

Also there were moments that morning, which really had me choked up - I really wished that my father had been there - I know that he would have been so happy to see Sh. get married. But I know that his death was God/Allah's will and I accept that the Almighty knows best. I was particularly emotional when I saw Is. , (who he is younger than I am but has, since the death of my father, assumed the role of the boeta - big brother - of the family) take charge of helping Sh. to get dressed, since his injured hand was making that task quite difficult to accomplish by himself. My aunts and uncles stood around watching this spectacle, all the while teasing him that while it was okay for the groom to rely on his boeta's help that morning, he'd be on his own that night - among other similarly disturbing remarks. I was grateful for the jesting and teasing because I was becoming quite emotional witnessing the bond between my 2 brothers, knowing full well how proud my father would have been at that moment.

For me, these are some of the sweetest moments of the day - right here

Awww, my two boeties ♥♥♥♥♥

But hey, what about me ???? I am the tietie, after all

The nikah (marriage ceremony) and reception ran smoothly and beautifully. The groom even remembered the lines which would transform him from a single stud to a happily married man.

After the nikah the bride and groom came downstairs to the reception area, where they  were showered with love and well-wishes from friends and family.

Aww, there they are again. The boeta wishing our baby bro after the nikah. Too sweet.

And that's me wishing my boetie - determined not to cry (it's not everyday I get to wear eye make-up, after all)

And there she is - my new sis-in-law (let's call her Sf). Beautiful 
ماشا الله

The proud mother of the groom

Close friends of the bride and groom, without whose assistance my mother would have had a really difficult time

With T. , our new nephew and a new cuzzie for my kids - yay!!!

With my husband Mo - our photographer for the day

With Uncle Sonny - I don't think he'd mind me using his name

Another awwww moment

Already such a good wife - I can learn so much

With my dad's fun-loving family - this was another moment during which I really felt his absence

All the aunties

After the wedding, the close family headed to the bruidskamer,  although the family decided to forgo all the traditional customs surrounding this. But I was secretly happy that they did not forgo the visit to the bruidskamer altogether, as I was happy that my other sis-in-law, Mf. would receive the acknowledgement for a job very well (and unselfishly) done.

One of the behind-the-scenes stars of the day - our very own interior decorator

This antique cupboard belonged to my late grandfather

I can say with absolute honesty that I haven't felt this contentment within myself for a long time - I am so overwhelmed with gratitude that my brother has found such a lovely woman with whom to spend the rest of his life. Although he is known to be jolly and fun-loving, I can truly say that I have never seen him smile as much as he did on his wedding day - even after his hand started to pain later in the afternoon. May Allah keep them smiling always. May He bless their marriage with happiness, peace, contentment and love. May little T. grow up knowing that he is loved by all his family (including us). I pray with all my heart that Allah grant them the best of this life and the Hereafter إن شاء الله.

And again, to Sf, I say - Welcome to our family!!!!!! 

Reconnecting with my roots

Since my father's death in 2000, I have been guilty of neglecting his family - his brothers, sister, nephews and nieces.

Thus I was really looking forward to the family get-together, arranged to take place at my cousin's place late yesterday afternoon.

It was an easy-going affair - upon our arrival my cousin had laid the table with various cakes - with the iced cupcakes being a firm favourite with the children (endearing my cool cousin to them forever as the 'cool aunty', who allows them to feed on cupcakes just before supper time).

We sent out for take-aways, allowing us all the time to catch up on months passed and important moments missed (instead of having to fuss about in the kitchen preparing meals - a brilliant idea!). We chatted about our kids, husbands, ourselves. We chatted incessantly - compressing months of information about ourselves and our lives into a few hours. Determined to fill every gap in the other's consciousness with information about our lives we absolutely had to share, and to glean as much information about each others' comings and goings - in the limited available time. Just imagine the incessant raucous babbling of over-excited voices - delighted to be in each others' company. Feeling at home amongst people whom most of us have known since birth, with whom most of us had grown up - the sum of whom defined us.

I learned about one multi-talented cousin's hairdressing business, the health concerns of another's daughter. About one amazing cousin-in-law's approach to dealing with grief after suffering the most intense loss imaginable. That another's son (who I still see as a little boy) is now coaching soccer. I observed what an amazing mommy one cousin was - she spent every second doting lovingly on her little boy.
 I learned that one cousin reads this blog after she's put her kids to bed for the night (Yikes!)

I stood by the stove learning the correct viscosity of the syrup used to glaze doughnuts and koeksisters. I learned that it cannot be measured - it has to be felt. Yes, my skilled cousin, poured some syrup onto my inept fingers, making me feel the correct viscosity. I suppose that mastering this art comes with practise.

Standing by the stove waiting for water and sugar to turn to syrup, I laughed heartily as two of my physically well-endowed cousins told how they use their bras to store important notes and other items they might need to access quickly. One told of her son's horror as she pulled a cell phone out of her bra and handed it to him to use. Oooh, I was so jealous - I have to use a handbag.

I had the most enlightening discussion with my aunt. This woman, who uses her self-deprecating humour to make others laugh, amazes and inspires me with her wisdom. We spoke about finding peace and contentment in times of adversity. She spoke about loving one's kids and loving one's daughters and sons- in-law as if they are one's own. This made me realise that I might have to slightly amend the terms of the agreement I'd reached with Shakeel (13) when he was about six years old - that he'd never marry or, if he did, his wife would sleep by our feet while he lay in the arms of his adoring mommy. I left that discussion with much to ponder and contemplate.

I had an interesting discussion with my aunt about my family tree. We were told about about one of our ancestors, who had been a bit snooty (and possibly not very popular, as a result), but who had married the most delightful man. So while most of the family takes after the down-to-earth father figure, there have been a few who have inherited the snootiness of the female ancestor. At this point, not only did eyes fall on me, but some of my more outspoken cousins actually pointed their fingers at me and said, ''Yes, this one - she's really stuck-up''. At which point I had to set the record straight, saying that my shyness and social awkwardness has often been misconstrued as aloofness.

I learned about how my paternal grandfather's mother, who had been a young Afrikaaner girl from the then South-West Africa, had left her family to marry my Cape Malay great-grandfather. And how, a few years later, her brother had come to instruct her to ''los die goed'' (leave these things) - referring to her husband and kids - and to return home to claim her share in their ostrich farm and the rest of their estate. When she refused, she was disowned. I was saddened at what must have been an agonizing situation for my poor great-grandmother - being rejected by one's family because of the race of one's spouse and kids. On the other hand, I was amazed that my dad had cousins in Namibia whom he had never even met.

I was sad when it was time to leave. But not as sad as Tharaa (10) was, as they had just started with the karaoke (and she just loves singing). She made me promise that we'd return to the fun Aunty's house soon.

Being with my family has made me realise how I've lost touch with who I am and where I've come from. And how serious my life has become. Last night I, once again, experienced unbridled, carefree and unrestrained laughter.