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  I asked her which was her favourite, but the only reply was that she had many favourites.  After interjections from my dearest, I settled on reading her Psalm 12.  Less than half way through, it dawned on me that this is probably the longest Psalm in the Book of Psalms.  So I raised this and she said I could read only half of it. In the end I read all of it, and received another thanks from from my dear mother.  So far, so good. It might yet turn out to be an exceptional day for my dear mother. After presenting her with her lunch, which she ate, my dear mother went to the bathroom and then made her way into her lounge, where she joined her daughter-in-law.  She reclined on her riser chair. A chair which she has, on more than one occasion, laid the blame for what she argues are people being spiteful towards her, as a result of their implied jealousy. We watched an old black and white movie, which I believed my dear mother got some enjoyment out of.  To be continued!

  They would not have to have their brains continuing to be the involuntary venue for  thoughts of what might and might not be happening to their son in prison.  They knew where he was now, and they knew that he was safe; that all should now be well.  Providing he remain on the straight and narrow. Providing he continues to increase his control over his temperament.  They could now entertain thoughts of, once again, being there for him more.  They hoped and felt that their son, Kazaliwa, though now a man just a few months short of his 25th birthday.   Would, might be more responsive to their attempts to be an effective influence on his thinking. On his planned or spontaneous actions. They did not know it at the time, but Kazaliwa, though he would have his wobbles and still cause them, as it were, to have more emotional pain.  Though he would cause them to worry about whether he would be able to get it together, get his act or his colloquial 'shit' together.  To be continued!

  We arrived at my dear mother's apartment probably an hour or so before noon.  She had not been expecting us because I had not told her or her care-worker that we were coming.  That as it may, when I opened her apartment's door and shouted good morning, mama, if she was surprised by our presence, she contained it very well.  There was to be other indications that my dear mother would not easily endeavour to make her 101st Birthday a particularly different or exceptional one.  Such as when she suddenly cited the pain in her shoulders, and seems to be about to start cry. Was this genuine, or was it an exaggeration?  My assumption was that it was the latter, even if my dearest would later caused me to belatedly question my untested assumption.  As the day wore on, I accessed the e-birthday card on her laptop and played and read it for my dear mother.  She thanked me ans indicated that she liked it. As she opened and appraised some presents we took to her, I enquired if she wanted

  In fact, with it having to take place under increased Covid lockdown restrictions.  Other than her care-worker, it was only my mother, me and my dearest, who were in attendance.  I had given some prior consideration to how we would go about celebrating my dear mother's Birthday.   The day when she would begin to take her first steps into another century.  As well as having given her a Birthday Card some days before her big day, I spent some time composing a Jacquie Lawson e-birthday card for her.  It was comprised sentiments extolling my dear mother about how she should focus, on this her birthday, only on positive and pleasing thoughts.  On how she could sing one of her favourite songs. On this occasion, to reflect her feelings of appreciation for reaching the age of 101.  Whereas her tendency has been to focus on things she is upset about.  I had also made arrangements to take a Bible on our visit to my dear mother, with the intention of reading her one or more Psalms, somethin

  There is, of course, no 'god-given right' for anybody to be able to 'speak freely', at any and every time.  There has never been such a right amongst any people or country at anytime during the history of our species.  Our freedom to speak our thoughts and our ideas freely, has always been circumscribed, prescribed or restricted by various customs, traditions and our status in society.  There has been and are religious, political, cultural, social and legal impediments governing our freedom to speak freely.  There is no absolute freedom to speak our mind.  Especially when doing so challenges or can be interpreted as challenging the dominant government, religious and law enforcement powers in the land. And so it is that, at the end of the day, using a clique.   There is probably always going to be a chasm between the presumption to have 'the right to free speech', and the individual's ability or capacity to exercise that 'presumed right.'  The size

  Us humans make alot of ado about 'free speech' and the 'right' to do so; to speak freely and without any undue restrictions on us doing.  The ability to speak and to speak intelligently and/or purposefully.   Is one of our human senses. Speech is one of the tools we use to communicate to communicate, which makes it, speech, a social display.  Speech is the verbal expression of a language, and language can be verbal, written, signs or gestures.   We use language to communicate our feelings, our emotions, as well as to express our understanding and experiences of our world and how it makes sense to us. So, yes, speech and our ability to use it communicate with our fellow humans is of great importance.  Important and even crucial, but, is it really 'a right', and, if it is a 'right', is it one which has been given, or one which has to be earned and fought for?  United Nations' Human Rights Convention has codified what it, the nations comprising the Un

  I have had much to say about my challenging experience of relating to my dear mother in the latter years of her journey through life or life's journey. But let us take a bit of time out to celebrate my dear mother's 101st Birthday.  After all, even if there is enough good and endearing things that we could focus on and enjoy.  It is clear that us humans apparently have a penchant for focussing on the mundane, the pointless and at times repetitive and sad ones.  As if there is an innate need within our human psyche to traumatise and retraumatise ourselves.  A need, or poorly controlled tendency to be too oftentimes preoccupied with pondering the things over which we have little or no control.   And thereby having less time to live our lives more positively and satisfactorily. So, let us turn to my dear mother, and how she spent her One Hundred and First Birthday upon the the beautiful Planet Earth.   Home of all, organic and inorganic, that liveth upon it. Unlike like her 100t