By definition

A section in the memoir writing course discusses structure; more specifically, whether or not adhering to a predetermined one assists or inhibits creativity and achieving the goals. Sticking to a plan can be beneficial for some while restrictive and static to others. At the same time abiding by a particular practice, like the writing ofContinue reading “By definition”

Stop all the clocks, let the mourners come

I have been writing about my visit to Kamuli, Uganda for a submission to a memoir writing competition and in that process a re-examination of my time has led me into a deeper understanding of the events. In previous posts about my uncle, Father Kees de Cock, I had described my quest to affirm someContinue reading “Stop all the clocks, let the mourners come”

The streets have no names

Verifying the third “fact” about Fr. Kees de Cock proved to be the most difficult challenge as I embarked on a hunt to discover the street bearing his name. My first step was to conduct a Google map search of Kampala, the city where my Dad believes the street is located. I have employed GoogleContinue reading “The streets have no names”

Please don’t call me Sir

I had more faith in my father’s second “fact” about Uncle Kees being recognized by the Queen. I had doubts, however, having never seen any evidence. I am unclear about the basis of my father’s faith, whether or not my parents had seen any pictures or were simply repeating the information as relayed to themContinue reading “Please don’t call me Sir”

Building pillars

The information about Uncle Kees arrives in dribs and drabs, in no particular pattern and from a variety of sources. The stories from my Dad were the beginning, leading to different forms of inquiry with little basis except that Uncle Kees was part of the Mill Hill Missionaries, stationed in Uganda in the town ofContinue reading “Building pillars”

Server to everyone

My Dad spoke often of his older brother, my uncle, Fr. Kees de Cock. Dad would repeat one of three “facts”: a building was named after Uncle Kees; he was recognized by the Queen (of Netherlands); and they named a street after him in Kampala. As a young adult, I took these statements for granted,Continue reading “Server to everyone”