Chapter 63 - Uncle Hector

It is 2010, and Uncle Hector has been taken from us. Cancer can creep up, unnoticed, and towards the end of our battle, it can, but not always, take us from this world at a relentless speed. 

Uncle Hector had worked as a barrister up until the last few months of his life. His work would occasionally take him to England. Jamaica’s legal system is based on British common-law, and sometimes barristers are required to attend the Judicial Committee of the Privy Council in England, which is Jamaica’s final court of appeal. He had always looked well on the few occasions I had seen him. Only my mother saw him on his last visit to England. She said he looked emaciated, wearing many layers in the height of summer, to hide his ravaged frame. 

I could not afford the journey to Jamaica, and so was unable to join Nathan and Mum at Uncle Hector’s funeral. But for a moment, I will dwell on the positive aspects of his life, for he seemed to have lived a remarkable one. He had achieved his goal of becoming a barrister, making his family proud. As a youngster, at his father’s side, he had witnessed what he believed to be the progressive Jamaican politics of the Manleys. Buoyed perhaps by the success of Norman Manley’s commitment to universal suffrage, Uncle Hector became acquainted with some notable American Black Panther members during the 1960s, much to Grandma Nugent’s disapproval. 

One of the final incredible moments of Uncle Hector’s life, was the opportunity to witness the first African American man to become president. Although, during the run-up to Barack Obama’s election, Nathan, who has often been likened to Uncle Hector, was keen to tell me that Barack Obama is not just black, but white too. And all those who label him as a black man, are stupid. He glared at me, as he said this. A hostile environment within your own family is unhealthy. I cannot remedy this, although I have tried many times. Nathan does not need me in his life, and I accept this. 

The relationship between my mother and her siblings was quite unlike mine and my brother’s. Theirs was one of fondness, despite the geographical distance between them. I can only imagine that Mum feels quite alone now. She plans to stay with Grandma Nugent in Jamaica indefinitely. I hope this will help them both come to terms with the loss of Uncle Hector. 

I am sorry that I was unable to join my mother. She seemed particularly fragile when preparing to fly to Jamaica. Her memory always seems a little sketchy these days too. I am worried that she has Alzheimer’s disease, just like her poor late father. I had asked her about this on numerous occasions, whilst we shared the flat in London, but she was offended. I should expect this, in view of the fact that Uncle Hector was a very proud man, and private about his illness.