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nelson mandela bay's family lifestyle
author:
theunis pienaar
paucity
issue:
9, easter 2009
paucity - “an inadequacy or lack of something” synonyms - “dearth, fewness” British explorer, Sir Ernest Shackleton, was one of the officers joining Captain R. F. Scott on the first polar journey. According to his obituary in the Times of January 30, 1922 he was an avid sailor and avid reader – his biggest complaint often being the paucity of ships’ libraries. The Times report: “By the untimely death of Sir Ernest Shackleton the ranks of British explorers sustained a heavy loss. He had gained fame as a man of the greatest intrepidity, as one who had held the Farthest South record and as a leader of men who had few equals.” I am not a man “of the greatest intrepidity”, my own obituary would probably not refer to me as “a leader of men who had few equals” and it was not at sea that my complaint about paucity arose. We were on a journey north. The route was familiar as we'd travelled along these desolate roads many times over the past few years. The journey however was new and unfamiliar. Autumn was fast approaching. In the central South African city of Bloemfontein my first child was born, while trees shed their first orange contribution, warning of colder times to come. We'd spent the week after our son's birth in the company and care of wonderful friends. Now, confident that he and Zuko were strong enough for the long arduous trip, we were on our way back home to the tiny village of Bray, on the northern most border of our country. The last stretch of our journey saw population density drop to four or five people on every 1000 hectares and tar giving way to seldom travelled gravel roads. As the sun was disappearing over the distant horizon to our left, our dusty vehicle found its resting place in front of our isolated home. It was on this day, or maybe even in this moment, that I became aware of my own paucity, overcome, amidst this utter loneliness, by the immense responsibility that suddenly rested on my shoulders. I was no longer just the carefree companion to the woman I chose to share my life with – I was a father, responsible not only for the physical care of a vulnerable boy, but tasked with raising him to be mature, independent and complete. Perhaps this was also the day I gave a first step towards becoming a complete individual who lives a meaningful life. I had been raised with strong adults as role-models. Men like Sir Ernest Shackleton & women who would give him a run for his money. I aged into puberty and beyond, believing weakness and inadequacy had no place in the accoutrement of a man. It is the strong tree that remains standing when the storm hits. It is the solid foundation that holds the house mighty when floods and disaster attack its perimeter. As I held my son, the sun long gone over this thirstland's skyline, carrying him into his new home for the first time, I knew I lacked most of what was required to be for this boy and what he would need. As our boy grew from suckling and nappies to solid foods and walking confidently, the realization of that singular moment, spread deeper into my being: “ I am not as perfect and adequate as I hoped myself to be or as I was raised to expect myself to be.” I found my paucity does not only relate to parenthood, but also to being husband, friend, son, brother, counsellor and advisor – to every aspect of my being. To counteract a lack of knowledge we spend decades at school and later university or college, gaining information and skill that will enable us to practise a profession. To counteract a lack of wealth we work and invest wisely, gaining financial independence that enables us to care physically, not only for ourselves, but our family and perhaps even someone who’s tasted the difficult side of life. Our emotional paucity though seems to be an activity for which our society has not devised a remedy. For me the first medicine was administered with our son's birth – understanding that I lacked something. This remedy did not supplement my paucity and I've come to believe that undoubtedly my own obituary will be published while I leave this life still enabled by a severe consciousness of how much I lack emotionally, to be father, husband, friend, brother, son and advisor. What has been a tremendous remedy is the unconditional acceptance I've received as I’ve admitted that I don't know how and I seem to be lacking. Zuko and my son and his two sisters who shortly after his arrival also joined our family, were not at all repulsed by my lack. On the contrary, with every day that passes they've encouraged me and we've encouraged each other to accept our own paucity and each other's and as we increasingly accept, we also intercept. You see realizing that we suffer from emotional paucity enables us to be honest about it and as our honesty grows the ones we share our lives with are afforded the opportunity to stand next to us, be it Zuko or my now nine year old son, or a friend who has gained enough trust to be privy to this secret. I've found, in their standing next to me, as my honesty about my paucity allows them, my paucity is remedied and although not eradicated in my being, it is subsidized and I lack less than I would have, had I pretended to be the strong tree. No gift I ever give my son will compare to the gift of his birth into our lives and his consequent sharing of our existence - the gift of discovering my own emotional paucity and over time, the gift of discovering that it is all right.
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