“My mother’s name was Maria. My father’s name was Landert Adrianus. I have no sisters, only brothers, Willem, Johan, Hank, Piet, Klaus and Adrian. I love my brothers, they are good boys. I’m not a youngster anymore. I don’t even remember my age. But I do remember my name…”. I am sitting with A–, at the London care home, listening to her talk. She is Dutch, from Gouda near Rotterdam, and she used to cycle a lot. Not so much now.
It is my first day with Living Words, and Pippa and I have joined Susanna at the care home to start taking down the words of the residents, to make into books for them. A– is the first woman I talk with, the first I listen to. Her eyes sparkle as she speaks of Holland and her wish to return.
Later I speak to D–. His family is from Gerorgetown, but he has lived in London all his adult life. Look out for his ex-landlady, Vera, she is a very powerful woman. She once held a policeman, nicknamed Pretty Boy, upside down with his head in the toilet, for being prejudiced. D– used to box. “My grandmother taught me. Strong women”. He’s a tenor too, classical music. “Would you like me to sing ‘My Tiny Hands are Frozen’?”. Yes, D–, very much. And, in a gentle, beautiful voice he does… Che gelida manina, se la lasci riscaldar. Cercar che giova? Al buio non si trova… And to finish, Ventrar con voi pur ora, ed i miei sogni usati, e i bei sogni miei!, or in English ‘Now that you know all about me, you tell me who you are. Please do!’. A perfect motto for Living Words!
Peter Salmon.