His Helper

21

When January rolled in, ushering in a new year and a fresh season, I found myself utterly exhausted from work, often staying up late into the night. Initially, the month started with high spirits, but as the first week crept in, my mood dipped. To counter this, I delved into my new manuscript, allowing my imagination to transport me to distant lands, providing a much-needed escape from the stressors of reality.

Even my phone remained switched off, as my extended family, with their own agendas and traditions, seemed to forget my staunch Christian beliefs. Despite being embraced by a family steeped in tradition, I made it clear to Belinda that if their plans conflicted with my faith, they'd be attending a wedding sans bride. Though appearing reserved, I refused to be a doormat, quietly asserting my boundaries.

Meanwhile, my manuscript progressed steadily, and I sought solace in conversations with Anele, despite the challenges of texting and calling. Just as I settled into a rhythm, they returned unexpectedly, claiming they intended to spend the remainder of the holidays with me. We shared meals, alternating between my place and theirs, with Aunt Aubrey joining us on Saturdays, basking in the warmth of the dwindling holiday season.

One sunny afternoon, we indulged in a picnic under the shade of a tree, relishing fruit platters, pastries, and cold drinks. As the children recounted holiday memories and shared aspirations, laughter filled the air. Amidst the merriment, Anele and I found ourselves washing dishes, reminiscing about our time in Johannesburg. It was then that Anele, his hands trembling with emotion, confessed his desire for his children to be closer to him, expressing regret for past absences.

With tears welling in my eyes, I embraced him tightly, overwhelmed by the realization that our dreams were aligning. Anele revealed his plans for the children's schooling and his intention to work from our newfound proximity. Amidst laughter and tears, I confessed my love, reaffirming my trust in divine guidance.

In that moment, Anele's patient, loving nature shone through, reaffirming the bond that had drawn me to him—the generous soul who embraced me with unwavering affection. Together, we embraced the uncertainty of the future, secure in our shared journey ahead.

The day concluded in joyous celebration, as we embraced the reality of being together in one town, poised to navigate life as a blended family. When we shared the news with our in-laws, they too joined in the festivities. My future mother-in-law expressed sheer delight at her son being just an hour away and eagerly anticipated our visits.

Knowing the special bond between the kids and their grandparents, I was already planning frequent family gatherings. To everyone's surprise, we unveiled the wedding date, set for the Saturday of the Easter weekend. Sunday would be dedicated to church, followed by the traditional wedding in King Williams Town on Easter Monday. The in-laws welcomed the plan with no objections, adding to the jubilant atmosphere.

Every evening, Anele would drive me home after we shared dinner, creating a routine that brought us closer, especially when Aunt Aubrey wasn't around. As our lives intertwined, the anticipation of our impending wedding added an extra layer of excitement to our shared journey.

Amidst discussions about wedding planning and furnishing our new home, Anele expressed his desire to actively participate, stating he wanted to be involved as the "man of the house." While I welcomed his enthusiasm, I questioned the need to buy new furniture, as everything in our East London home was in excellent condition, some items even appearing brand new.

I argued that the kitchen, though requiring minor improvements due to the kids' mischief, was still functional. Our new house boasted a luxurious and modern kitchen that needed no alterations. To find a compromise, we decided to salvage some items from our old house before putting it on the market. This way, we could preserve the pieces that held sentimental value and maintain the charm of our existing furnishings.

As the kids embarked on their journey to the new school, Liyema radiated excitement, surpassing the enthusiasm of the others. His previous encounters during playtime at his former school had given him a head start in making friends. It appeared that Liyema possessed a natural flair for forging connections, as evidenced by the swift friendships he formed not only in our current town but even during our time in Johannesburg, where he effortlessly befriended others within minutes.

As we escorted Akhanani to fifth grade and Nelisa to grade R, I could sense their jitters palpably. Their little faces mirrored a mix of excitement and apprehension as we navigated the school drop-off. Once we bid them farewell at the front office, Anele steered us back towards the bakery.

During the ride, Anele broached the subject of the children joining the book club at the bakery. If Akhanani and Nelisa could engage in the book club, he'd have a bit more breathing space to tackle his workload from home. I empathized deeply with his predicament; the transition to remote work wasn't without its challenges. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that Anele harbored a larger strategy beyond just working from home temporarily.

Nevertheless, the logistics loomed large in our minds. Anele's days were stretched thin between chauffeuring the kids to and from school and squeezing in time for our pre-marriage counseling during my lunch break at church once a week. The delicate balance between work, family, and personal commitments underscored the intricate dance of our daily lives as we journeyed towards marriage.

The pre-marriage counseling proved invaluable, teaching me a fundamental lesson: entering marriage with open hearts, not clenched fists. The essence of marriage lies in the union of two individuals bound by love, ready to commit and navigate life's journey together. The wisdom imparted emphasized the power of prayer and mutual support during challenging times.

Reflecting on my parents' relationship, I cherished their ability to complement each other, not rooted in perfection but in their shared commitment to work through challenges as a united front.

Anticipation bubbled within me for the time when our lives would seamlessly intertwine. Post-wedding, living together, I envisioned driving the kids to school until Liyema secured his driver's license. This shift meant I wouldn't rush to work early, the bakery needed additional staff, particularly those with culinary expertise. In a discussion with my business partner, Aunt Aubrey, we delved into upcoming changes. I shared with her the need for a shift in focus after the wedding, and she readily agreed. We decided that I would take charge of the bookkeeping, administrative tasks, and continue overseeing the literature aspect of our bakery business.

With this understanding, my work schedule evolved into a nine-to-five routine, punctuated by a lunch break dedicated to fetching the kids from school. To accommodate these changes, we devised a plan to transform my upstairs room into a dedicated office space. This shift aimed to strike a balance between my professional responsibilities and the new dynamics of family life that awaited after the wedding.

As prayers for a smooth transition echoed in my heart, I looked forward to building a harmonious and supportive environment for our blended family.

With a heart prepared for change and a spirit ready to embrace the next chapter, I embarked on the journey, uncertain of what lay ahead. Yet, within the uncertainty, hope thrived—a hope that my husband would stand by me, offering unwavering support as we navigated the twists and turns of life together. The vision of raising a family, united in putting God first, painted a vibrant picture of the fulfilling future we aimed to create as a couple.