Nuclear Family?
How the Fear of Nuclear Disaster Affects My Life Today
--
As I watched the much-praised TV series Chernobyl, it reminded me of one morning in 2011 when I turned the TV saw footage of a man standing in the rubble of the Japanese earthquake and tsunami. His words were translated as, ‘I have lost my family. I’ve lost everything. There is just me now.’
Until that moment I had been so overwhelmed by the physical destruction and the fear that surrounded the nuclear incident at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant and the tsunami that I hadn’t thought about the far-reaching consequences for those people who had survived. In mourning the dead, I had put the living to one side. Now I realise that their suffering was permanent. Whereas houses and businesses can be rebuilt, the loss of a whole family in sudden circumstances can never be repaired. The snapping off of generations in circumstances such as natural disasters and civil unrest can even fracture the ongoing culture of a country. The man on the television is left with no one to tell him stories from the past, no one to ask about family medical issues, no one to care for him or for him to care for; his life from now on will be unthreaded from his family history.
Generations
Until a few years ago there were five generations in my family. I was very impressed by the quality of information my grandparents were able to give to me about my genealogy, and even more entranced by the stories that they passed down the generations. My grandfather, a seventh son of a seventh son, lived until he was in his nineties and his life advice still rings in my ears today, as I follow his traditions and grow my own vegetables. His gardening skills were born out of survival more than hobbyist, and contributed to my confidence that, even in the worse circumstances, I would be able to feed my children. Last summer, I passed this skill onto my grandson, and kept my grandfather’s love alive in our family line.
I had missed my grandparents so much when I spent several years living in Cyprus in the eighties, building a nest with my own family and, trying on my in-laws’ opinions for size. It was here that I discovered the true longevity and value of family history. In a village high in the Troodos Mountains, I was welcomed by my in-laws…
