My Strict Uncle

He is a tall man, an imposing figure, an intellect and highly knowledgeable nearly about everything. Frankly, I was seriously considering in investing in an Oxford dictionary at one stage to figure out what on earth some of these words were that he uttered. Reality is that I am an Afrikaans girl, and he took great delight at times to mock me about my colonial English vocabulary. FINE! So we talk about robots and not traffic lights, we have traffic circles not roundabouts and there are speed bumps in the road, not sleeping policemen...in South Africa you will find them parked in their vehicles under the nearest tree...

He has the ability to give you this look, without saying one word, normally accompanied by a lifted forefinger, that elicit an immediate response of  "Oh dangle, I think I am in trouble" . If he does add your name, in that quiet way of his, you KNOW you are in trouble. Which I admit, I was, on more than one occasion. A lesson learned was that he does not forget, even if you are on your best behaviour for the rest of the day, trust me, his memory puts an elephant to shame. 

 I am most probably one of the biggest sulkers you can find, and even as hard as what I try, I cannot hide it. My bottom lip tends to be in danger of carpet burns, my body language clearly signals, "Do not touch" and then there is the matter of selective hearing, with the option not to hear anything being practised to the fullest. My responses are down to a No or a Yes, and for some odd reason, words such as "whatever" becomes the total extend of my vocabulary.  

 However another lesson was quickly understood,  as a low ominous voice close to my ears, while I am was firmly being held by the arm, asked me whether I am going to stop sulking or whether I required his assistance in spanking the sulk right out of me. The first time I pulled my face away from his, I was bent over a kitchen chair and spanked, this only a couple of minutes after being caned. The second time, I remembered what happened previously, so not only did I pull my face away, I started walking away from him as well. All I can say, the last time someone had me by the ear, pulling me back, and promising me that I will not be able to sit down for a week, must have been in primary school!   

 He has a defined and unshakable opinion about acceptable and unacceptable behaviour, and is a firm believer that the latter should be recognised for what it is, and the consequences should be faced. He abhors cowardice, lies and games that people so like to play with each other. He is hard and cynical in many ways, and some might think he is vindictive, which he will openly admits he is to an extent. Yet, an honest true apology offered with acceptance of whatever punishment he deems fit; will be accepted with no further grudges held.

 And oh, how he can punish. Defiant and sulking about a punishment just meted out, I lied about my bottom not being sore. However, he quickly realised that I did distort the truth about the state of my bottom, and even worse, he realised that it was rebellious in nature. For the next two days, I had to continually strategise to keep my bottom out of his reach; not very successfully, I might add. And when he did smack my bottom as he walked past, or stood behind me, and I complained, he would only lift his eyebrow and say: "Do not know what you are complaining about, as I recall, you did say that your bottom was not sore."

But this is also a man that would gently touch my forehead to let me know he is there. A man that allowed me to snuggle, burying my head into his chest, while waiting in the bitter cold for a bus, with him gently kissing me on the top of my head, offering me the best comfort he can at that moment. The man that held me so close to him when I was in tears, after lighting a candle for someone I lost that I loved more than anything in this world. A gentle teaser in nature, he relished in the fact that I tend to rise to his bait every time, but enjoying it immensely when once instead of arguing back, I opted to kiss him instead. I miss him, and I am praying that my journey to return to him permanently will soon arrive.  


Anonymous said...

Your description makes me shiver in recognition as I have that, too. Our men are the kind that say it like it is, never leaving us to wonder where we stand with them. This is a most admirable trait, as I know how hard it is to be upfront with someone you care so much about.

I hope you find your way back to him soon, Raven.

Uncle Nick said...

Hmm, of course the reason why you stand is that your behaviour has unfortunate consequences that makes sitting down uncomfortable.

Raven Red said...

Miss Pink

I truly hope that I do find my way back to him soon. But the British Empire is still a mighty force to battle against...especially in trying to obtain a work visa.



Em said...

I just discovered your blog, this was such a wonderful description, thank you for sharing.

Raven Red said...

Hello Em

Thanks for finding me! And thank you for reading...and the kind words..



emilywintersfiction said...

Some of your posts are so beautiful they make me want to cry. You have a very poetic way about you.

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