Writing for me is so much more creative with a fountain pen on beautiful paper in a special notebook. Writing that first page , filling up the lines and the notebook bulging with the ink filled pages. Thoughts seem to stream through the nib, needing to slow down to the flow of the ink. It focuses the mind knowing that changes deface the page…. yet it records changes in the flow of ideas, thoughts and opinions. As with everything in life - there are always pros and cons to every choice.
Yet - I have come to accept that this is no longer the way that stories will be captured to be shared with others. So, here I am at the keyboard to share some stories …of those close to me, some of my own and just general ramblings of the mind, prodded into action by so many brilliant minds past and present.
Who am I ? I am a woman, a South African, an immigrant of German heritage, living in South Africa since 1969, an only child with a large extended family in Germany and parents living in South Africa. Married to a South African, a mother of grown children, retired business owner, now indulging in a passion of recording the stories of family members and dear friends. Stories that I believe should not be forgotten - should be shared - to remind the generations to come of the courage and fortitude that is in their genes and that no challenge is too great to overcome. To give the future generations hope , to remind them that no matter the hardship and the challenges of the time, things will always change, there will always be a tomorrow and life goes on in the most unexpected ways.
Also - to pay tribute to these much loved people, that their traumas inflicted by the politics of the time, their resultant pain and courage are recognised and were not in vain and forgotten. That their fortitude is admired and that their experiences show us just how resilient humans can be. It left an indelible mark on me, to hear my grandmother say between sobs on a walk through our village " How can people plan their holidays when women are being systematically raped as a weapon of war", at the time of the war in Serbia and Bosnia. And my uncle, in his later years being haunted by the traumas of his youth, needing to speak about them, share them , and feeling [quite rightly unfortunately ], that nobody wants to hear it and no-one believes that it could have been so bad. The trauma of being on the wrong side of history. The reality of then being so far removed from the privileged existence of today.
I felt then - they need to be heard, their stories need to be shared . We all have something to learn from the experiences of our shared humanity ....it is our shared memory. By understanding different parts of herstory and history, we get a glimpse into the future.