When love has no barriers

Dirk Lotriet and his daughter talk about love and living in peace with loved ones.


Being a parent is difficult. Being a single parent must be the most difficult thing in the world. With the lovely Snapdragon being in hospital for two weeks now – her operation was a success and the road to recovery has started – I am both mother and father for the little Egg.

It’s difficult to keep her clean and full and to get her to school on time, but it’s not impossible. But to be the soundboard when a six-year-old wants to discuss her love life… When I picked her up yesterday, she was in a foul mood. I couldn’t do anything right. Later, on the way to see her mother in hospital, did she confide in me.

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“I had an argument with Alex,” she said. “Why,” I asked. “He said I always want to pick the games we play,” she said. “But you have to play the games he wants to play, too,” I told her. “I know,” she said. “But it’s difficult.”

I suggested that she buys him a chocolate, apologise for her part in the argument and tell him that she’s unhappy with the way he treated her.

“Hmmm,” she replied. “I’ll tell him if he argues with me again, I won’t marry him.” “Not good,” I said. “Look at me and your mom. People who love each other, argue at times.”

She didn’t say anything. Later that evening, at the hospital, she said she wanted to ask me something.

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“How do I spell ‘I love you, Alex’?” I told her. She looked at me incredulously. “You don’t know much about spelling, do you?” She shook her head. “And you don’t know anything about love at all.”

She continued to write her little olive branch on a card: ‘I lawe u, Alex.’

On our way home, I talked to her about relationships and how difficult it is to live in peace with another person. She yawned, because it was past her bedtime.

“Leave me alone,” she said. “If you want me to leave you alone, I can stop the car right here next to the road and drop you here,” I suggested.

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“No,” she said. “I still want you to look after me and love me. Just leave me alone with your words.”

Which I did. At home, she squeezed my hand before she went to bed.

“I love you, dad,” she whispered. “Even if you know nothing about love.”

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