A learning experience it was.
For the first six weeks, I was there my father took me all over the Island. From Ba to Nadi then to Labasa his birthplace.
I was where my eldest sister Shilpa was born and where my dad introduced my mother to his mother.
I saw the school at which my father went too and the small shack where he use to sell the family vegetables to help support the family.
I went to my grandmothers grave site and watched as a 60-year-old man broke down in tears and explain how important his mother was.
My father was heartbroken, he had no real contact with my sisters at this stage and I was his last chance. My father sat me down near my grandmothers’ burial plot and he sat and looked at a blank stone. He pointed and said at the time this is all he could do but now he could afford to do something special.
He said sorry for all the times he beat me for no reason, he said that his mother would be so sad to see me right now. He only wanted the best for us and he did what he did so we could have a life where money wouldn’t be an issue, a life where if we wanted to have food we had it, if we wanted a nice bed to sleep in then we would have that too and finally if we wanted to travel and leave our problems behind we could.
He wanted to show me this because he felt like I was spoilt and pig-headed and to be honest I was.
I remember sitting with him at the site for almost four hours in silence after that conversation.
The site was on a hill looking over the village. Eventually, we walked down to the village and walked into a small little hut that the locals visited.
We sat down and ate an amazing meal.
Part three will be written early next week.