homeward bound

Yesterday was a day in Christchurch for my Great Uncle Harold's funeral. Among other things he was my mother's mother's sister's husband, father of two, grandfather of 11 and great grandfather of three. He was a seaman onboard the HMS Achilles and would crush your hand every single time you shook his - no amount of pre-planning could stop it. In the mid seventies his wife Freda died and he had his ear and large part of the side of his face removed in the fight against melanoma, which doctors told him would soon take him too. My entire life I knew this dis-figured Harold. I never once heard him complain and from what I can tell, he never did.

I believe we carry aspects of people around with us, that part of being us is what we have learnt from the examples other people have given us. When I have to walk into a room of strangers, stand before a crowd or face horrible truths Harold is one of the people I take with me. I hope one day I can face these things with the grace, humour, passion and courage that Harold would.