Tough time recently...

Things have been a bit... well, difficult.

My grandfather died a couple of days ago. In hospital - went in with a bleeding stomach ulcer, and left in a hearse with a broken shoulder and neck. Many of my family are still somewhat in shock and wondering how in seven hells they could let something like that happen.

So, I might be heading up north for a funeral early next week. Certainly not the best circumstances under which to see Grandpa. I miss him already.

My grandfather was many things over the years - radio operator, miner, geologist, boss, botanist, fisherman, father... but one of the things I remember most about our summer holiday visits was his flying. Most of our trips started and ended with Owen flying us to and from his home town from one of the larger airports in either Auckland or Hamilton.

This is utterly geeky I know, but I pulled out the MS Flight Simulator the other day, and "flew" from Hamilton (where he was in hospital) to his home field at Pauanui Beach, in the kind of plane he used to fly us in. There was something about flying over those hills in the rain that was somehow cathartic - even they weren't real hills, or real rain. The best I could do at short notice, given my complete lack of pilot's licences. I hope he might have appreciated the gesture though, all the same.

When I have nothing left to fear
When I have nothing left to say
I'll just let this slip away
I feel these engines power down
I feel this heart begin to bleed
As I turn this burning page...

A big thank-you...

...to everyone who has sent me messages of love, support, sympathy and a variety of forms of hugging. You're all highly appreciated, and I treasure you - so don't every forget that, or I may have to smack you. Or give you stern looks or a good pouting, as I think some of you might enjoy the smacking too much.

It looks like we'll be headed up to Auckland for the funeral early next week (Monday thru Wednesday, or thereabouts). Maybe not the ideal location, but it's the easiest place for everyone (including overseas relatives) to get to. Maybe heading over to Thames to inter his ashes in the place he was born after that.


batty_, I think angels would be perfect the entity of choice. My grandfather was a Methodist and used to sing in church choirs when he was young. Both of my mothers parents were generally fairly quiet about their faith, though - it was a personal thing, and something they just quietly got on with and lived without judging others too much. No matter what your religion, that seems to be a good way to live, to me.


As to how it happened: information's a bit sparse at the moment. He went in there because he was bleeding from an ulcer - what would have been a lot more manageable was made worse by anti-inflammatories (voltaren). While he was in hospital under observation while that was coming right, he apparently fell out of bed somehow and broke his shoulder and neck.

They had him in intensive care for a couple of days, then for some reason they moved him out to a ward, where he suffered breathing difficulties, and then died. I guess "under observation" isn't very observant. I'm also rather unhappy about the hospital staff claiming he was suffering from dementia when his somewhat less-than-lucid behaviour only came on when they pumped him full of morphine. For all that it was an accident, it remains to be seen whether it counts as negligence, I guess.


And in parting, many hugs and other gestures of friendship to all of you out there who I care about. Many of you have trials of your own (big and small) right now, and I wish you the very best in dealing with them as best you can. My thoughts are with you all, too.