Last week my mom told me that her parents got divorced in 1957. Up to then, I thought my granny passed away then. As far as the family was concerned, she might as well have been.
She moved from Kimberley to Johannesburg and remarried. Her new husband was Charl Marais and they had a baby with the same name. However, a week before the little boy's first birthday (1963), my grandmother did pass away. A few years later Charl snr died in a car crash.
Over the weekend I decided to find Charl and yesterday I did (with some help). Last night my mom called her brother and told him the story I just told you. All he could say was, "I am that baby".
For the next few minutes, she tried to explained 47 years of history, but I am not sure how you really condense a lifetime into minutes.
This morning, I do know my mom woke up, having found her lost brother and Charl woke up, having found an entire 'new' family.
Sometimes I feel like that. When I look around me and I see my community, I have come home. They are my brothers and my sisters. Like any amily, we can have fun, but we also have hard times.
My mom & Charl reminded me of the discovery of this new and alternative family. I want to take Jesus' words literally when he said we will have many mother and fathers and brothers and sisters.
May God give us the grace to live as His family this year. May He help me to remember that I too was found.
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