Stories from my family: Part 1

Nieva, Colombia, March (or thereabouts) 2011

HELLO, NICE TO TALK TO YOU, OR AT LEAST TELL YOU A STORY.
WHAT FOLLOWS IS NOT TRUE, NOT IN THE SENSE THAT I HAVE METICULOUSLY RESEARCHED EVERY PART OF THIS NARATIVE, VERIFIED EVERY FACT AND ENSURED THAT EVERY PERSON IS REPRESENTED IN THEIR TRUE LIGHT AND TO THE BEST ACCURACY POSSIBLE IN WORDS.
NO, THESE WRITINGS ARE MORE OF AN IMPRESSION, AN IMPRESSION FORMED FROM MEMORIES OF TWO VERY IMPORTANT PEOPLE IN MY LIFE, THE TWO MOST IMPORTANT PEOPLE IN MY LIFE, THE PEOPLE WHO BROUGHT ME INTO BEING, NURTURED ME AND MADE ME THE PERSON I AM TODAY.
MEMORY IS AT BEST A CHAOTIC STORY TELLER, IT LEAVES OUT DETAILS IT SEES AS UNIMPORTANT AND INCLUDES THINGS THAT WERE NEVER THERE. MEMORY ALSO RELIES MORE FOR ITS MOOD ON THE CURRENT FEELINGS OF THE TELLER AND SO MEMORIES CAN CHANGE FROM ONE MOMENT TO ANOTHER.
I AM WRITING THIS MATERIAL IN NEIVA, COLOMBIA, SOUTH AMERICA. I AM HERE ON A PROJECT LOOKING TO BURN CASCARILLA (RICE HUSK) AND MAKE HEAT AND A SPECIAL TYPE OF ASH FOR USE IN THE CEMENT INDUSTRY. I HAVE BEEN HERE FOR ONE DAY, AND THIS IS MY THIRD VISIT.
IT IS HOT HERE, BUT NOW IT IS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT SO NOT TOO BAD. NEIVA IS A SULTRY PLACE WHERE NOT MUCH SEEMS TO HAPPEN AND MOST PEOPLE SEEM UNTROUBLED BY THE REST OF THE WORLD.
I AM IN A MODEST HOTEL AND AM WRITING THIS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN HAVING TROUBLE SLEEPING. SLEEPING PROBLEMS USUALLY HAPPEN TO ME BECAUSE MY SUBCONTIOUS HAS BEEN WORKING OVERTIME AND ITS THOUGHTS USUALLY DEEPLY BURRIED BENEITH LAYERS OF OTHER STUFF SUDDENLY COME SURGING TO THE SURFACE LIKE A BREAKING VOLCANO.
I FIND IN THESE CIRCUMSTANCES I USUALLY NEED TO RESOLVE SOMETHING DEEP DOWN IN MY SOUL ABOUT LIFE IN ORDER TO BE ABLE TO SLEEP AGAIN. I THINK, ALTHOUGH I DON’T KNOW,IN THIS INSTANCE THE THING I NEED TO DO TO BE ABLE TO SLEEP AGAIN IS TO WRITE THE STORY OF MY MUM AND DAD. IF YOU ARE READING THIS THEN I’M ASSUMING I HAVE BEEN SUCCESSFUL IN THIS ATTEMPT.
I AM ONLY IN NEIVA FOR ONE WEEK, SO WILL NEED TO COMPLETE THIS SHORT BIOGRAPHY BEFORE THE END OF THAT TIME. I ALSO NEED TO WORK SEVEN STRAIGHT DAYS ON THE RICE PROCESSING PLANT HERE SO IT MAY BE TOUCH AND GO AS TO WHETHER I SUCCEED. ALTHOUGH OF COURSE THE FACT THAT YOU ARE READING THIS SUGGESTS I HAVE SUCCEEDED, OR YOU AT LEAST GET TO SEE THIS BIT OF THE STORY.
ANYWAY, THAT’S ENOUGH ABOUT ME FOR NOW. THIS STORY IS ABOUT MY PARENTS. LET US BEGIN WHERE ALL INTERESTING STORIES MUST BEGIN, AT THE END.
MY MOTHER DIED IN JULY 2010 AND IT IS ONLY NOW THAT WE ARE LOOKING AT HOW TO ENGRAVE THE HEADSTONE. WE HAVE HAD NUMEROUS E-MAILS GO TOO AND THROW ABOUT THIS, BUT FINALLY, EARLIER THIS NIGHT, AFTER HAVING GRABBED TWO HOURS SLEEP I FINALLY FELT INSPIRED TO TELL MY BROTHERS AND SISTER ABOUT WHAT I FELT SHOULD GO ON THE GRAVESTONE. THIS E-MAIL AND MY SISTERS RESPONSE IS WHERE WE SHALL START THE STORY.
BUT FIRST, ENOUGH OF THE capitals, lets tell the story in normal sized font (the capitals were just for me, to help me keep going)……aaaaaaaaah that’s better, I’ve just increased the document size to 156% which on my tiny latitude dell laptop just about makes what I’m writing readable to my forty year old eyes. If any typos creap in, sorry for that, I’m only human afterall. Lets begin……………….
 
Headstone 1

> Subject: RE: Headstone and life
> Date: Thu, 10 Mar 2011 18:34:48 -0500
>
> Hello everybody
>
> This is the final thing you will have from me on this topic (probably). I have not been getting much sleep lately and luckily have just managed to grab a 2 hour nap after a week of hardly any sleep at all.
>
> I am currently in Neiva - one of the hot zones of Colombia (look it up on the map) where they grow mainly rice. It is a hot and humid place where hardly anything ever happens and the people are a bit rough - it's a bit like Plymouth only without the sea.
>
> The last two years for me have been a version of hell, starting with Cata and I losing jobs, me not seeing Cata and the kids for 2 months when they came to Colombia initially, mum dyeing, financial struggles, living with the in-laws in a foreign country where I don't speak the language, uncertain of what the future might hold.
>
> However, over the last two weeks we have started to turn a corner, and we have started to see some light. Cata and I have started pushing ahead with our business in earnest and I genuinely believe (for the first time in a long while) that things are going to be OK for us.
>
> All of this has suddenly and unexpectedly got me to thinking about mum and dad again. What is their legacy to me - what did they give me which is special, what did they give me which makes me different from other people. When we grew up and it seems had so little compared to others why is it that I remember growing up with such joy and happiness.
>
> After thinking about this (mostly subconsciously) I have come to the conclusion that the thing which they gave me, the thing which I think they gave us all is a sense that life is not that serious after all, that we should enjoy life, live it to the full, believe in ourselves, believe in the good in others, work hard, play hard, but never give up.
>
> I remember Mum and Dad used to say this thing about "faith, hope and love" being the greatest things in the world and that of these "love" was the greatest thing of all. When times have been hard here, this is the special thing about my mum and dad that I remember.
>
> This is a message I'm sure has been working away at my subconscious over the last few years and has been keeping me going even though at times I have felt there has been no way forward. Maybe it is just my subconscious doing the trick, or maybe it is mum and dad together exerting their influence in some celestial way, I don't know.
>
> What I do know is that I would like other people to know what special people my mum and dad were. In 100 years time I would like somebody passing by my mum and dads gravestone perhaps after having buried one of their own loved ones and to read the inscription and to find themselves uncontrollably smiling at what they read - a cheeky irreverent one-liner which is really unexpected in such a solemn place.
>
> Imagine that person, welled up with grief and wondering what to do next with their lives after losing their own loved ones suddenly finding their countenance change momentarily from a heavy grief to a light joy as they read:
>
> "life's not so bad when you consider the alternatives".
>
> Let us celebrate mum and dad's life. It makes me smile when I think of them both, probably having a grand old time chatting with their parents, Helen, Aunty Mary, Terry, Auntie Do. Probably dad has put some coal dust on his upper lip and is making an impression of Groucho Marks. Groucho Marks who is also in the room probably sidles up to him and says "not bad, not bad, almost as good as the original". Mum is having a laugh in the corner over something, and is sitting down playing scrabble or doing the crossword, probably having a chat with her mother and getting on like a house on fire with her mother and her mother's brothers and sisters as they remember things that happened years ago.
>
> This is the legacy they left me - always to look on the bright side of life. When life is hitting you on the chin so much, to rise up and put your chin out with a smile on your face and ask for more. This is the strength of character which meant dad survived the second world war even though his medical records said that "there's not much time left for this one" (or words to that affect). This is the spirit which also kept mum going even though she struggled with depression for most of her life.
>
> 55 years ago 10 years after a war which deeply disturbed both of them, two very damaged people who felt alone in the world met each other on a bus. A couple of years later they were married. 45 years later they have both now gone but have left 7 children 20+ grandchildren and a whole load of other people who have been positively touched by their lives. Mum and dad were a hundred times the people they would have been if they had stayed alone. They brought out the greatness in each other and this is their legacy to me and I think to the world. Their irreverence - mums witty one liners, dads practical jokes (who can forget the spaghetti tree gag he did with Roy Leverton) - is what made them special. They always gave to others and they seldom wanted anything in return.
>
> That’s it - sorry got a bit preachy at the end!
>
> Nick

Headstone 2

Hi

I enjoyed Nick's email. I would want our own children and future generations to gain something tangible from the headstone. I would want to read somehitng uplifting when I visit their grave. I want to remmeber the messages they gave us- see below- which emcompass everything about them.

In
Loving Memory of
SAMUEL ROY NEAL
D.C.L.I.
Last Postmaster Bridwell Road
30.3.1922 - 20.12.1993
MARY VERONICA NEAL
Loving Wife of Roy
Devoted Mother & Grandmother
Teacher and Homemaker
12.10.1929 - 26.6.2010
enjoy life
live it to the full
believe in yourselves
believe in the good in others
work hard, play hard, but never give up!

Mary-Jo

Headstone 3

I think that is exactly what should go on the headstone.

Nick