A legacy of diabetes and the skin of a leguaan

Goodness me, three of my four grandparents had diabetes.

 Pa and Nan van der Veen from my photo gallery in the hall.

The disease wreaked havoc for each of them.

I have a note written by my father that Nan and Pa would not be able to return to their house in Faraday Boulevard after the operation, mid 1969, so this would be when Nan has the final amputation due to the diabetes, she was then a double amputee.

The first operation was mid 1968.

The Messina 31 May 1968 letter, only a few months before her operation.

She mentions her legs and one can infer that she is already feeling the impact of the neuritis, '..so excuse mistakes as it (the typewriter) wobbles every now and then and I just want to be very careful that it does not fall over onto my two legs'




Instead of revisiting their individual suffering I want to share another delightful story from Nan's letter sent to Mom, particularly as there are no letters after the amputations except for her bequest list.

 .....he had used a leguaan skin for his neuritis, so now everyone in Messina is looking for a leguaan for Mrs. van der Veen, including the mine natives. I believe one crossed the main road to the Standard Bank the other day and the kids scattered far and wide. It was going to a good place neh"

A vintage postcard from Amanzimtoti

Nan writing to my brother Clive from Toti in 1963 and wishing he was with her to make castles in the sand.

In a letter dated January 1964 she says to tell Clive he must catch a fish for Nanna.

He would have been 3 years old.

A sense of place along Faraday Boulevard, Vanderbijlpark

Nan and Pa van der Veen lived no more than 3 kilometres from our first home in Vanderbijlpark which was in Gillespie Street. So Nan's letters, which span a period from July 1959 to a note she left my mother in September 1971 giving her a few instructions on what to do with her special things on her death, are sent from her trips around South Africa mostly visiting family; Messina, Port St Johns, Amanzimtoti, Johannesburg.

This 2010 google maps photo of 39 Faraday Blvd looks so similar to what their home looked like in the sixties! 

I can do a mental walk through the house, I have a sense of the place, the darker unused front rooms, the light airiness out back, eating apricots directly from the tree with Clive, Nan's bedroom smelling faintly of her favourite 4711 Eau de Cologne, the colours of her crochet blanket, walking hand in hand to movies with Nan, if I am not mistaken to 'Sound of Music', Pa's wet kisses, and in the later years Nan in her wheelchair, after the  amputation of her legs caused by her diabetes.

There are two items in my home in Norwood that come from this time and this house along busy Faraday Boulevard in Vanderbijlpark, my kist left to me by Nan and a wrought iron bookcase made for me by Pa.

I never got to say thank you to Nan for the kist and I do so now, it is a much loved possession, the centre piece in the hall.

A post for little "Don't touch it"

All this time I thought my Mom unique in her passion for crafts. Meanwhile her mother was too, she is making a string bag which needs to be lined, string lampshades and she has Pa knitting on the single bed knitting machine.

In the Messina letter, she has started a  blanket for her 'little "Don't touch it", as it is time she got one too'

My sisters had no or very little years with their grandparents, so it is precious to see Inel mentioned in this letter. 

In 1968, Inel was a year old and Nan is delighted to share with Mom how clever she and Sis have been in adapting a pattern from a picture of a blanket being held by the Presidents' wife ( likely Lettie Fouche, as Jim Fouche was South African President in 1968). 

I am assuming Sis or Sissie, who engraved my copper baobab, was Pa's sister. She was a creative force in those years and Nan was just a little in awe of her.

All about a blanket for Inel.

I am noticing another shared quality between mother and daughter - they were frugal, loved scraps and hoarded all sorts of bits and pieces. 

Four generations of women

Nan is sitting on the back veranda in a morris chair and the date is 31 May 1968. The chair has been adapted to hold her typewriter. She is visiting family in Messina, 'it is so nice and warm out here and I can help dad on with his knitting when he gets stuck.'

I started reading the Messina letters this morning to see if they can shed light on the copper etching I have in my autograph book. 

Instead I am discovering my Nan and I like who I am meeting in these letters.

I have always loved words and I especially loved Nan calling us her scallywags, the word has a slight edge to it, rascals, derived from pirate speak but it was her special term of endearment for her grandchildren.

Her scallywags have become generations of women who have her qualities.

Her letters are full of love and concern for her family; they show her industriousness, the joy of creating, of projects, of arts and crafts; her sense of fun and humour; the pleasure of colour and design; the beauty of flowers and a garden; an appreciation of small kindnesses; a curiosity; a perseverance; she is house proud and she has the ability to enjoy the detail in her life.

P.S. Am sitting chewing dried peaches which we have not seen for years and we found at Musiekers.'

Nan's generations of women.

I can relate to her story to Mom about Pa and the black dye! No doubt my sisters can too.
'Some people have silly husbands.'

Inel. Little "Don't touch" is you...

A little turquoise Autograph Book

My Autogragh Book which I have kept since the late sixties. How I loved collecting the messages and autographs.

Today we bought Brasso and Fred cleaned up a small piece of copper I have in my little turquoise Autograph Book. It's a finely etched drawing of a baobab, dated 23-7-67, my eleventh birthday, signed Sissie.

Messina.
A holiday with extended family on my maternal grandfather's side. I remember this particular trip and only because of this little book.
Everything is vague though, who Sissie is, who wrote the message in my book signed Roos, Messina, but the pleasure from putting the copper drawing in the autograph book lingers.

I have a wedding photo of my maternal grandparents hanging in the house and I feel as though I am seeing them for the first time, so interesting what the blogging is creating for me.
Pa is fresh faced with a wide open forehead, the gentle smile on his face, in fact he is good-looking, Nan's headgear and veil drowns her somewhat and she looks a little tense.
I do not know the rest of the folks in the photo, we did have an Aunty Edoo who lived down the road from my grandparents and gave me huge dolls as a child, wonder if that is her to the left of Pa?










Nan was a typist.
She prepared the typed messages in my autograph book from her and Pa, I love the curling 'N' of her Nan and her signature on the autograph wall, that's Mom's just below hers, D E Wedderburn.
Then the only writing I have found of my Pa so far, his signature, top right on the photo above, Pa v d Veen. My father mentioned that Pa was a Superintendent of Factories at Iscor.

My Pa walking Mom into the church, my cousin Ian as the beautiful pageboy.

Now to dip into Nan's letter cards sent from Messina....

A passion for rugby, Percy Wedderburn

Percy Wedderburn, top row, second from the right.
Orange Free State Rugby team

Percy Wedderburn, centre back row.

Percy Wedderburn, my paternal grandfather, loved the game of rugby and played for the Orange Free State. Lack of funding kept him from playing for South Africa on an overseas tour.

Letter done, folded and then Grandpa Percy must have been annoyed by a game he was listening to and added this final thought.

His letters written in his seventies show his ongoing involvement in the game and he certainly continued to have an opinion too! 

The Wallabies in the June '63 letter are a 'useful side they seem to have had the better of E Transvaal in all departments.'

The Wallabies again, in the August '63 letter, have shaken up the Boks and I can feel his frustration as he writes of their short-comings to my Dad.

I love the typical rugby supporter archetype, he is clear who should be dropped from the team, nothing has changed all these decades later, its what I hear from my Dad and from Fred.

Aunty Dolly self published her biography called "The Drive to Dance" in 1997 and I have copied this piece on Percy Wedderburn from her book: