Travelling alone provides one with plenty of opportunity to reflect on those people who have touched our life. In the past three days I have traversed the Cambodian countryside on buses, motodups, tuk tuks and taxis for a total of 19 hours. This morning, everyone else seems to be nursing their Saturday hangover, so I sit alone enjoying my fruit salad and rice muesli. No one to chat to, but plenty of time for reflection. This journey is a little different from those before – I have a purpose for being here. And although I sit here by myself, I have not come alone, but am sharing this journey with two people who mean so very much to me.
Frank and Mary Peek are my grandparents. I still recall the weekends of my youth spent baking date rolls, choko pies and fresh custard. I´d wander through the pumpkin and passionfruit vines in search of a tasty piece of sugarcane to chew on. Children of the depression, nothing was thrown out at Frank and Mary´s house. Adorning the vj walls of their Queenslander were bird feathers, calendars reflecting a history of coronations, sporting heroes and photographs from 90+ years of life.
Frank and Mary were married for 63 years, and although they could not be together in the final year of their lives, I made sure they were together for eternity, joining in a local tradition of placing their names on a padlock and throwing away the key atop one of China´s holy mountains, Hua Shan.
At the time of writing this, I have tears. Frank and Mary passed away within six months of each other, and I miss them. But above all, I feel a privilege to have them share this journey with me, for without them, this trip and my vision would not be happening.
When people leave our lives, we can always wish we had talked more, shared more, asked more, loved more. I do. But I can also ensure that the memories I have of them stay with me and I never forget what they gave me, nor the value they placed on their family and the little that they had.
When I helped clean up their house, I found a sealed envelope. On the front in my grandmother´s scrawl was written ¨to those left behind¨. I had not been in the country when Mary passed away, and with the deepest sadness did not attend her funeral. I felt that for some reason I was chosen to find the letter, hidden in the dark recesses of a wardrobe for over 20 years.
My hands trembled as I opened the letter. I could imagine Mary sitting at her old manual typewriter, keying in the names of all her children and grandchildren. On the attached page was a short message espousing the love she had for her family and her wish for their happiness.
Frank and Mary – I love you. I am forever grateful for what you gave me. In return, I shall provide an opportunity to individuals, communities and organisations that are giving to others. I hope you are enjoying this journey as much as I am enjoying having you a part of it.
My journey is dedicated to your memory and my vision honours all that you gave me.
I hope for all who read this, that you take some time out to thank those in your life who have provided you with opportunity, knowledge, purpose and pleasure. If you´ve ever been stuck in Cambodia during rainy season, you will know how important a bridge can be. They allow us to move through our lives easily, with support and provide us with the opportunity to go as far as we want to go. Rebuild broken bridges. Strengthen existing ones. And importantly, build new ones.
Thank you Frank and Mary. You have allowed me the opportunity to embrace my passions, but more importantly, to help me find a sense of purpose in my travels and my life.
Frank, you can finally be proud. Mary, you need not worry – I am happy.
xx
Tina,
Once again you have made me feel! I don’t know what it was but I was in tears reading this post. Thank you for reminding me to remember those who have been important in my life.
Love
Caz