The time had come for me to sign off (quite literally) and head back to England – it was last Tuesday morning (so close and yet so far, it being Thursday today). Those who did not have to be at work at that hour were there at my brother Bill’s house to wave me goodbye.

William, my nephew (a budding horticulturist), led me over to a fine looking plant in the garden.

“Is it an aloe vera?” I asked, thinking that I should make some comment about the healthy plant.

“No, but it’s a similar succulent,” interjected Loretta, “just mind the thorns at the tips of the leaves.”

“They grow them in the Philippines,” added Will, as he took hold of one of the leaves to show me the shiny upper side which had been etched with a signature and date. “Did you notice this?”

I hadn’t… until then. I marvelled at both the quirkiness and the clarity of the white scarring on the leaf – “Edmon Botor Apr. 12. 2015.”

“An old friend of Lola’s (Grandma) came to visit the other day. In the Philippines they have this custom of writing their names on leaves so that people will remember them when they’ve gone,” informed Will.

“How long do the signatures last?” I asked.

“Years and years,” Will and his sister agreed together.

Will pulled a thorn from the end of a leaf and used it as a sharp nib to write his name and I followed suit on the other side of the plant. Likewise, Loretta and Roland took turns to write their names on fresh leaves.

No doubt, when Bill returns in a week or so from his work in Western Australia, my big brother will see the names on several leaves of his fine plant; and from the date he will deduce the occasion, and he will know that I had a good send off. I hope that the plant didn’t mind our sentimentality.