By William Kemble-Diaz
LONDON (Reuters) - I was a child when my dad died. JohanCruyff's great Holland side had just lost the soccer World Cupand my father had been in southern France, on his way to Spainto join us on holiday.
Although we lived in England, my Spanish mum found iteasier to bury his body in Barcelona, nearer her family. Shebought a 50-year licence for his grave and a year ago, I tookmy three children for their first visit to the grave of theirgrandfather, Cambrin Kemble, in the Collserola cemetery.
Though tucked away in the hills behind Barcelona it ishuge, so I cursed my decision to rely on memory rather thantake proper directions -- I last visited the place in 1994.
I did not find him.
A few months ago I found out why. I rang my mum on hercellphone on her birthday and met a flood of tears. She was atthe cemetery -- her third visit since 1974 -- and had justlearned that my father's remains had been removed, dumped in acommon grave, and replaced with someone else's.
A mix of shock, shame, and resignation is still gnawingaway at me. But his corpse's fate is a hazard that a growingnumber of northern European retirees hoping to see out theirdays in the sun may want to note.
According to the charity Age Concern, more than 1 millionUK pensioners claim their state pension outside Britain, but itestimates many more live abroad. The British Consul estimates500,000 British retirees live in Spain, although how many planto be buried there is not clear.
Getting an explanation for what happened to my dad'sremains has not been easy.
My dad's niche -- Spanish tombs are often slotted intowalls and are rarely in the ground -- was emptied in 1996, theauthorities eventually told us. Why, is less clear: therefollowed a bout of bureaucratic buck-passing.
BYLAWS
Barcelona city council directed my enquiries to Cementirisde Barcelona, partly owned by Madrid-based company MEMORA.MEMORA said it had only taken on the firm after my father'sremains had been removed, in 1998.
MEMORA also directed me to a cemeteries bylaw passed in1985 which allowed for the cancellation of funeral rights inthe event of "neglect" such as non-payment of conservationrights after 20 years.
It declined to explain how this superceded a 50-yearlicense granted in 1974 or to say whether the cemetery hadtried to contact Cambrin Kemble's family.
A previous 1909 bylaw defined neglect as a 10-year periodof non-payment of conservation rights after 50 years hadpassed.
But a spokesman for MEMORA said even with a 50-yearlicence, a dead person's family had a responsibility to stay intouch with a cemetery to make sure the address details on filewere correct.
My sister still lives at the house in England my dad sharedwith us before he died. I also have family in Madrid.
The MEMORA spokesman said the 1985 bylaw required thecemetery to place an announcement in a newspaper of the "widestreadership" before any rights over a burial plot could becancelled.
Cementiris de Barcelona said its announcement had beenplaced in a regional newspaper, El Periodico de Catalunya.
The company refused to apologise because it said to do sowould be to acknowledge culpability, even though we expresslydismissed the idea of financial compensation.
So we have given up the chase.
Bones are just bones. My father lives on in me and in mychildren, I know that. But it was a nasty aftershock more than30 years after our world was blown apart.
I still wish he had not been buried far away from those heloved. I wish he had not been buried at all.
I wish he had been cremated. I know I will be.
(Editing by Sara Ledwith)
