Archive for February, 2017


BB’s Baby Blog – Frame a Name

To welcome the Arrival of a Baby,

a Christening or Birthday

this makes a wonderful

one-of-a-kind personalized gift…

Click ON the Picture (Link) below



Ruben Voorbeeld



My Valentyn

Ek’t rondgesoek en oraloor

Gespook, gekrap… dit half verloor

Ek’t her en derwaarts, heen en weer

Gewonder wat ek moet begeer

Ek’t oor en oor getob, gevra:

Wat wil jy hê?  ’n Nuwe (bloedrooi) bra?

Sjokolade in ’n pienk kardoes?

Of dalk ’n speelding van www . xxxwoes ?

’n Hartjieraam vir daai nuwe portret

Waarop jy jouself ge-photoshop het?

’n Regte egte blinkleer paar stewels?

Of dalk ’n stelletjie cubic knewels?

Ek weet, ek weet, dis nié hoe dit werk…

Maar Valentyn maak my gewoonlik ’n effe beserk

Net oor ‘hy’ glo dat ek al die dae in die jaar

Tog reeds bewys van sy (ewige) liefde ervaar

En my altyd bederf, sonder dag of okkasie

(Kersfees is hy “Santa” – en Paasfees my hasie 😀 )

Hy nou gladnie verstaan dat ek kan verwag

dat hy my kaalg@t by die huis moet inwag

Met ’n pyl en boog en ’n bossie rooi rose

Want hy reken mans is seker die grootste klomp eeeehhhhmmm d….

Om te dink dat 2 dosyn blomme en ’n boks sjokolade

’n Man sal red uit sy Manwees bravade…

Dus sal veertien Februarie steeds kom en gaan

En die helde sal sneuwel – nie één sal bly staan

En ek’t nie verniet gewik en geweeg

Hoe om Valentyns met SY kredietkaart te pleeg.



Beyond the Blue

The irony was what hit me first. The irony of countless facebook status updates during the past few weeks, that read something like this: “Suicide Prevention Week…” – and added to that, a whole paragraph or two of blah-blah’s about being a caring human being, who will support and is available apparently 24/7 to anyone suffering from depression and / or contemplating suicide. It ends with  – DO NOT share this status, but copy and paste it; as well as putting every FB-friend on a guilt-trip if they didn’t bullying them into believing they are heartless human beings should they decide not to post this to their status bar.
Here’s why:
Not one single human being; not one Facebook friend; not one sharer or copy-and-paster; – NO-ONE saw this coming.
Oh, in hindsight, we can all ‘see’ the signs. Afterwards we can all pinpoint the countless posts referring to, or at least broaching the subject albeit showing the symptoms of joy de vivre literally flowing from one previously seemingly cheerful and lively human soul.
It left me shocked, at the very least; and that’s putting it mildly. Not one? No-One? Not even one single friend (let’s suppose that of all our ‘real’ friends registered to Facebook are actually our Facebook friends too and they account for probably between 25 & 50% of your “friends’ list”, which include, parents, siblings as well as other close family, it is quite a shocker isn’t it?)
To think that this person felt that she had absolutely no-one to confide in. Or to call. Or to ask. Or to tell. And to think that no-one saw any signs (except in hindsight)… when we hear from the close friends and family : “Mind you, she did become withdrawn… She didn’t eat/sleep well lately… She didn’t go out much anymore… She declined all invites. She hasn’t been her usual self for a few months.”.
I’m addressing this subject, because I lost a friend to the dreary darkest blues beyond blue, many years ago. We’d had a date the previous day. Yes, she was in a sad place in her life at the time. Yes, I knew that she needed to talk and what some of her issues were. Yes, I lent an ear; pep-talked again (as so many times before); promised my support (and certainly meant it); told her I loved her (like I do with all and any of my friends who are comfortable enough to allow me to do so.)
We hugged. Again, in hindsight, I believe she hugged me just a little bit tighter, a little bit longer the day we said our last goodbye.
Less than 24 hours later she had succumbed to the blue and had taken the step of ending her pain. Left behind were loud screams of “Ag, NO!” and “Why?” and afterwards many people (including me) who were left silently questioning their influence or meaning (if any)  on her life and how many of us may have  ‘aided’ her (unconsciously) to the same towel, she had just thrown in. By not being able or in a position to lift her up.
The survivors of a suicide never stop questioning their impact or lack thereof on the victim.
But wait!, you say… Who is (are) the victim(s)?
And not at all minimizing the pain and agony felt by the person behind the suicide, the pain and distress the ones left behind go through, is immeasurable and infinite.
The sad part is, that the victims that are left behind, doubting their credibility. As friends. As parents. As partners. As humans.
And life stretches out infinitely in front of the other victims of suicide – the ones left behind. Questioning. Exhausting every single possible “What if I?” “Maybe I could have” “I should have”…
Who am I to criticize a suicide? Then again, who am I NOT to criticize a suicide when it affects me to my innermost core?
When you kill, whether it is someone else or yourself, you don’t only kill one person. You don’t merely and only kill yourself by suicide. You kill whole families and relationships and circles of trust. You kill principles and integrity and self-worth. And spirit.
And when you’ve crossed the rainbow bridge or entered the realm of peace you so desired, the path behind you is strewn with the shadows of dead spirits you have destroyed in the process of ending your own pain.
Having said that – I am so tired of clichés, though :
Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem”, is a response from people who have absolutely no idea if the problem that drove a person to attempt or succeed at suicide was temporary or not. Obviously if the problem didn’t at least seem permanent, no-one would see suicide as the only answer.


 So, here’s me… left with no answers. Again. With a whole lot of questions. Again. Without hope of ever determining whether I could have, should have, would have…. if only I were approached by the sufferer.
Then again, would I, in all honesty, really believe the sufferer , IF I were approached with a direct forewarning of their plan? And what would or could I do, to prevent such? Well-meaning folk like me are usually ill-equipped in successfully performing any kind of therapy – and a sufferer of the blues beyond blue is usually under no illusion as to who, if anybody, can save them from their wretched existence, financial burden, poisonous relationship, or just ‘plain old’ (with all due respect) dreadful depression.
See, not one suicide I am personally aware of, was ever preceded by a threat of such. And each and every successful (oh the irony!) suicide, I have ever dealt with, has caught me unawares and reeling in shock – sometimes years later… still searching for answers and truths.


Beyond the deep dark bitter blue

Where lie hides everything that’s true

Where sunlight dare not shine too bright

And shadows steal last hope of sight.

Beyond the blue there lies a dream

Which beckons in a silent scream

Which pledges pure and perfect peace

 Where pain and fear of failure cease.

Beyond the blue where shy souls hide

Beyond the blue where tears are dried

You’ll find souls searching for their due

May yours find peace – Beyond the blue.


February 2017


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