Creatures of habit

When my grandmother died at the age of 92 the family re-united at the church in Wakkerstroom after an absence of over 35 years. It was something of a homecoming for all of us, because this was where our family had been christened, married and buried for 150 years. We were part of the place.

I had gone through Grandma�s phone book after she died to see who should be invited to the funeral. As is often the case with very old people, I had to find that there were very few people left to invite. Most of her family and friends had long since passed away. It would be a small funeral.

I was told that in olden times families had customary seats where they always sat and that it was unthinkable that any other person should dare to sit there. �Did our family also have a designated spot?� I asked my great aunt. She smiled when she replied, �Yes, we always sat right there.� I followed her gaze to the second bench from the front. �And the Kolbes always sat there,� she added. I looked and saw that it was the bench right next to the Labuschagne bench.

When the family came in I carefully watched them. Even after 35 years or more, they all went straight to their age old places. The Labuschagnes to the middle bench and the Kolbes to theirs. I had to smile. There were so many memories. I always had the same place at the dining room table � and when I visit my parents I still assume the same seat automatically. In school I still look at the playground and look for the bent pine tree which was always �my� spot.

We are homing pigeons, we humans. Creatures of habit to the last.