My Scottish grandmother and I outside her home in Cape Town

My grandparents bought a house in Cape Town in 1977, and made it their home. It was near the sea and you could catch a view of Table Mountain from a certain angle. We lived in Johannesburg (two-hour flight away), so used to go there on holidays. When I became a teenager, I discovered how similar in nature I was to my grandmother. We seemed to have similar quirks and oddities (many of which I’m pleased to say I have outgrown!) I felt closest to her than anyone. After my grandparents passed away, a relative moved into the house, which has now been sold, and my relative moved out yesterday. The house is ready for its new owners.

I remember when my husband and I packed up our home in Johannesburg. The moving company came and collected all the boxes and I remember sitting on the step thinking, the next time I see these boxes I will be on a different continent and have no idea where I will be unpacking them! It was a strange feeling. I waited for my husband to arrive home, and we drove to my mother-in-law. She had made up beds for us in the dining room, my defacto home for the next six weeks, while my husband went ahead of us in our move to Sydney. When we arrived on the Monday night, she made us tea and offered us homemade carrot cake. A lovely welcome, for a strange night of ours lives!

Tides come and go. Flowers bloom and die. Homes and hearts so welcoming, at some point, perhaps so far in the future it may seem, they cease to be, and are simply no more.

Replaced with new homes and new hearts.