Dad was a great guy and I miss him....

As I sit here curled up on Marguoex's couch here in Camp's Bay, South Africa I realize it is late, and I can't sleep as usual. It seems I have had insomnia ever since my father passed away a year and a half ago. After countless failed attempts at trying to make sense of his death, I have finally accepted the fact that it will never make sense to me and remain a mystery. I don't talk about this subject very often so I am going to write a blog about it tonight.

I have read that there are several stages of grief that one goes through when they experience the loss of a loved one. I am not sure which stage I am in but I am left with a sense of frustration, furry and just plain heart break when I think about the fact that my dad is no longer here. He was not perfect, I'd be lying if I said he was, however he was my best friend, I looked up to him, adored him, and I miss the hell out of him .

I have been in Africa for a couple months now. During this time I have experienced extreme emotional highs and lows. Mostly highs, but my mind can be like a roller coaster at times. Between seeing the lions in Zimbabwe, the beautiful sunsets in Cape Town, the night rides while on safari, I still can't quit missing dad. There is no running away from a broken heart. To be honest, I thought that Africa would get my mind off of him, but instead I am constantly reminded of what a great guy he was. Valdosta is one of my favorite places, but I have such a mix between happiness and sadness in that place because behind every bend and corner there is a happy or sad memory of dad and I am continuously caught off guard by what strong emotions I still have over his loss.

When I was on safari with Nathan and Tara I remember one day that was the perfect day, and later that night we sat around the camp fire and looked at the stars. Right when I was starring into the clear African night sky thinking how wonderful of a world it is, I all the sudden choked up and had to fight to keep the tears from flooding down my face because it brought back memories of me and dad and how we used to go up into a room he built in his house where the roof could open up. In this room were telescopes and we would look at the stars together. During this memory of dad, Nathan says, "hey Jen, look at those stars", at this time I could not hold back anymore and I simply began to cry my eyes out because I thought, why can't dad be here to see the stars with me.

Being here has given me the opportunity to think long and hard about a lot of things in my life. My favorite thing to do is sit on the rocks at the beach at Camp's Bay and watch the amazing sunset. I don't think I have gotten through a single sunset without crying. It is good for me to cry, because I am trying to get to the point to where I can believe that life goes on. I have held in my emotions in for a long time about dad's death and this trip has given me time to think about the important things in life and laugh when I feel like laughing and cry when I feel like crying. It is bitter sweet because the past few weeks have been the happiest of my life, but at the same time it is frustrating when I see something beautiful and remember that dad is not here to see it with me.

According to my therapist, my father was my rock. Now that he is no longer here, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do about the "rock" situation....look for another or become my own? Dad is gone, that is the hardest thing I have ever had to admit to myself, but I don't think he is completely gone, he's just not here with me. I talk to him constantly not knowing whether he can hear me or even if he wants to hear me. But I feel most connected to him when I am in nature or when I see something beautiful.

What scares me is I still think about him all the time. A lot of times I and left frustrated and hopeless and back to thinking that no one will ever understand my loss and the new people in my life will never know what a great guy dad was and how do you explain that to someone?

Death is a reality that all humans will experience throughout their life. Why is it that during these times of loss we often feel the loneliest and like an outsider to the rest of the living world? We each have our own unique memories of the loved one that we have lost and no one in the world really knows what "you" are going through. I'm not so sure what exactly the meaning of life is, but I am going to make sure that I live each day like it were my last and try not to forget how precious and amazing it can be.

Friends in Camps Bay

Today Margeaux woke me and and took me to Constantia. There, you will find of vineyards, mountains and a beach where the surfers frequent. We met up with Tony who is one of her friends. Actually that is basically what Capetown is, it's like going to the mountain and the beach at the same time. The 12 Apostles are mountains that each have a "face" and they are in the background of Camps Bay beach.

Okay, so I am having the absolute best time of my life. I have nothing but great things to say about my new friends here in CapeTown, South Africa. This place is amazing and the most beautiful place I've ever seen in my life. I'm actually staying here longer than planned. My friend Margeaux is letting me stay with here. She is just as crazy as me and we seem to get along fabulously.

Everyday starts out at our friend James's restaurant Cafe del Mar. We call it Harry's. It over looks the beach and is spectacular. I come here for lunch almost everyday and the same five of us always end up together. Everyone keeps telling me how I lucked out to find this group of friends and they are right. They have really adopted me and I feel like we have been friends for years. The day my cell phone got stolen, Graham went out and got me one and let me have it. How cool is that. And then Margeaux insists that I come and stay with her. Last night we went into the city of CapeTown and went to a fabulous Thai restaurant. Ofcourse we ended up at James' restaurant and the to a place called Karma which pretty much lives up to its name. Earlier last night I took one too many tequila shots and they ended up catching up with me by the time I got to Karma. I didn't throw up if that is what your thinking, but today I wish I would have because this hangover may have been a little more tolerable.

Anyhow, I am reading my friend Graham book called "That's Bollocks". He is an international bestseller and I must say I get a kick out of his books. He writes under the name of Jack Albert, another good one is White elephants and red herring. Graham cooked a couple of nights for me and I must say that his spaghetti Bolognese is to die for. I also tried his lamb and that is all I have to say about that one.

More on Camp's Bay, South Africa

Camps Bay South Africa......why am I addicted to this place?

I am back in Camps Bay for the moment. This part of Africa doesn't feel like Africa at all. It kind of has a Beverly Hills-esque vibe. My days begin with a brisk jog followed by a really fattening meal which equivalates to a not so good waste-line. In my mind the two simply cancel each other out. Maybe I should consider revising my philosophy on diet and exercise seeing how my pants no longer fit.

I'm not quite sure why I'm in love with this area so much, but I am. Maybe its the beautiful beaches, maybe the fabulous array of mountains each filled with scenic hiking trails or maybe the intriguing people that strike my interest (or maybe it's just the fact that I am no longer on a train with a bunch of losers). Either way, I cannot seem to get enough of this place and I don't want to leave it. To be honest, I am frightened at how much I love it here and the fact that I lack any indication of home sickness at all. (I do miss friends and family....okay I said it).

Everything here flows but nothing seems to make a whole lot of sense which seems to be the story of my life. I stick out like a sore thumb and seem attract a lot of attention from the locals with my redneck south Georgia accent. I have learned that a dutchman in Africa is the same as a redneck in south Georgia.

Dutchmen are one thing that you won't see in Camps Bay, but you will see this little red neck trotting around in every corner. This is a swanky place, everyone is super cosmopolitan, well dressed, and then there is me, which is the total opposite. Everyone has an interesting story of how they got to where there are, too bad I can't say the same for myself.....lol. Did I really just use that disgusting expression...lol (again).

Okay, so my luck has changed and I have met some wonderful people this past week. Actually that is putting it lightly, these people have been the most hospitable, welcoming, splendid amazing folks that I could have ever imagined meeting. I'm not quite sure how I got so lucky to have met them, but I did. It all began when I went out late one night (by myself) to grab a quick bite to eat. A group of 4 nuts asked if they could sit with me. Ofcourse this was a welcomed surprise and not to mention refreshing to meet such a crazy bunch of people like myself..... I'm not sure what the common denominator between the five of us were, maybe craziness, maybe just me but either way we all seemed to click.

Actually craziness is a pre-requisite if you are a friend of mine. Why is it that we all seem to attract eachother? Nuts of a feather flock together...no thats the methloquine talking...oh shit I can't use that as an excuse because that is not until tomorrow night....heheh. Where was I going with this....so after dinner my new friends and I ended up at Dizzy's (the local watering-hole) which ironically sounds like disease.......

At Dizzy's (disease) two body guards followed us around. I was a little uneasy because I'm not sure if they were their to protect "us" or maybe to protect Andy from me. Either way, one wrong move and I have a feeling they would have tackled me to the floor in two shakes of a persian kitten's whiskers. Those body guards intimidated me with their matching black vests and microphones. I decided that I would intimidate them back with my terrifying dance moves. I had them sweating like two whores in church after about 5 minutes breaking it on the dance floor. When Jen breaks out the dance moves it usually means one of two things: 1 it is way past my bed time and I have had too much to drink or 2 I am trying to punish everyone in sight. I DO NOT DANCE and there is a reason for this.

One suggestion that I would recommend to the general population here is teeth whitening bleach. I'm not so sure why all of South Africans have butter teeth but they do. Is it the lack of flouride in their water system or just plain poor hygiene? This is a question that I am willing to get to the bottom of. I will be sure and mention to the Red Cross to include teeth whitening bleach when they send all those tiny care packages of biscuits and gravy and Grey's Anatomy re-runs.

Camps Bay, South Africa

I am back in Camps Bay for the moment. This part of Africa doesn't feel like Africa at all. It kind of has a Beverly Hills-esque vibe. My days begin with a brisk jog followed by a really fattening meal which equivalates to a not so good waste-line. In my mind the two simply cancel each other out. Maybe I should consider revising my philosophy on diet and exercise seeing how my pants no longer fit.

I'm not quite sure why I'm in love with this area so much, but I am. Maybe its the beautiful beaches, maybe the fabulous array of mountains each filled with scenic hiking trails or maybe the intriguing people that strike my interest (or maybe it's just the fact that I am no longer on a train with a bunch of losers). Either way, I cannot seem to get enough of this place and I don't want to leave it. To be honest, I am frightened at how much I love it here and the fact that I lack any indication of home sickness at all makes me wonder if I have been living on the wrong side of the earth for the past 27 years. (For the record Mimi, I do miss friends and family very very much....okay I said it).

Everything here flows but nothing seems to make a whole lot of sense which seems to be the story of my life. I stick out like a sore thumb and seem attract a lot of attention from the locals with my redneck south Georgia accent. I have learned that a dutchman in Africa is the same as a redneck in south Georgia.

Dutchmen are one thing that you won't see in Camps Bay, but you will see this little red neck trotting around in every corner. This is a swanky place, everyone is super cosmopolitan, well dressed, and then there is me, which is the total opposite. Everyone has an interesting story of how they got to where there are, too bad I can't say the same for myself.....lol. Did I really just use that disgusting expression...lol (again).

Okay, so my luck has changed and I have met some wonderful people this past week. Actually that is putting it lightly, these people have been the most hospitable, welcoming, splendid amazing folks that I could have ever imagined meeting. I'm not quite sure how I got so lucky to have met them, but I did. It all began when I went out late one night (by myself) to grab a quick bite to eat. A group of 4 nuts asked if they could sit with me. Ofcourse this was a welcomed surprise and not to mention refreshing to meet such a crazy bunch of people like myself..... I'm not sure what the common denominator between the five of us were, maybe craziness, maybe just me but either way we all seemed to click.

Actually craziness is a pre-requisite if you are a friend of mine. Why is it that we all seem to attract eachother? Nuts of a feather flock together...no thats the methloquine talking...oh shit I can't use that as an excuse because that is not until tomorrow night....heheh. Where was I going with this....so after dinner my new friends and I ended up at Dizzy's (the local watering-hole) which ironically sounds like disease.......

At Dizzy's (disease) two body guards followed us around. I was a little uneasy because I'm not sure if they were their to protect "us" or maybe to protect Andy from me. Either way, one wrong move and I have a feeling they would have tackled me to the floor in two shakes of a persian kitten's whiskers. Those body guards intimidated me with their matching black vests and microphones. I decided that I would intimidate them back with my terrifying dance moves. I had them sweating like two whores in church after about 5 minutes breaking it on the dance floor. When Jen breaks out the dance moves it usually means one of two things: #1 it is way past my bed time and I have had too much to drink or #2 I am trying to punish everyone in sight. I DO NOT DANCE and there is a reason for this.

One suggestion that I would recommend to the general population here is teeth whitening bleach. I'm not so sure why all of South Africans have butter teeth but they do. Is it the lack of flouride in their water system or just plain poor hygiene? This is a question that I am willing to get to the bottom of. I will be sure and mention to the Red Cross to include teeth whitening bleach when they send all those tiny care packages of biscuits and gravy and Grey's Anatomy re-runs.