Tag Archives: Death

Oct 5 2012

Two Funerals and a wondering


To be honest it’s been a few funerals,  but specifically I’m thrown off by axis by one of which was this week, the other from 1988.

This week the funeral of a friend, Des Tierney, a good bastard by any measure. If I end up half a good a bastard then I’ll be spectacular. No one exemplified the meaning of community than Des. There won’t be a million words or books written about Des, and that’s a pity in some regards, but he’ll be an oral legend, around these and other parts.

The other funeral, my Father. The one I didn’t go to because I just moved to New Zealand, in 1987.

The thing that links them? Well in the sadness of things they both died before they were 60.

And why then would I be thrown into the funk that I have. Well I’m not getting any younger, and I’m now contemplating, as I did with some incredulity at 16, as being as old as my dad. Except now that the words “when he died” are added on the end.

So why should I panic about the age my father died? He was a heavy smoker with a sedentary lifestyle, it’s not the way I am. And how does the passing of a friend conflate a story to make it a doom.

In a normal thinking they don’t. But as your own mortality, and your own perception of that mortality changes you begin to fret. I spoke to a couple of of me friends about this, and they get it, what I’m feeling, they didn’t laugh, they just compared theirs to mine, and we all agreed that it was a nothing. It is what it is, there is no binary thing going on, that event A does not meant that it will equal a similar event  A for me, or them.

So now here I am wondering why it is that I never owned a Lotus Elite Turbo, and E-Type Jaguar. A 1967 Mustang fastback , or a V8 anything, and it’s not like that would define me in anyway. It might bring me immediate pleasure, and the added angst of maintaining and paying for it.

I’m now wondering why I never went home to England and abandoned almost everything to a new country, like no one ever did that, but I’ve not been home, not am I likely to go home, and I left in 1987. And yes it’s still home. Go figure.

Do I think people will tell grand stories about me when I die? You’re having a laugh, the most heroic I’ve been was when never.  Should I worry about that?

So a life just as ordinary. A fear and doubt. A surprise? There are many things in my head, and a weight on my shoulder that has descended for no reason other than self.

But if I had a motto to live by it would be “this too shall pass”, and it will. Might get that as a tattoo.

Aug 28 2012

Happy Families – the one with the recap #2


Anyways we crack on ….  There are many more things to tell

If you remember we had an aunt Peggy  - it turns out that she was not a relation at all. This came to light when Peggy needed proof of identity for her pension rights. Seems our nan took her in. Mum only said she was very upset and angry.

but a footnote clears it up somewhat:  Peggy is a relation, that’s your Mum’s “sister” on her birth cert. The father is named as your granddad ( Eva’s dad ), but the mother isn’t Harriet (grandmother), but is in fact your Grandads sister.  We presume that whilst married – the mother who’s name evades us at present – and with her husband is  at war (or dead) she’s become pregnant. Our Grandparents have taken Peggy as their own, hence Grandads name on the birth certificate, so Peggy was your Mums cousin and her “parents” we’re her Aunt & Uncle.

In other stories

The bishop of Fulham is a relative! He came to visit us once.

Granddad had a  brother who lived just yards away they never spoke.

Took mum to see Albert SCRIVEN  -  he being a cousin –  his brother was a boxer and actually spared with the late Sir Henry Cooper, we have a letter from him telling us that.

Granddads father fell of the back of a horse and cart and died. He was born in Crewkerne  - that’s Somerset.

granddad  served in WW I -  according to mum he was a stretcher bearer.  Had a finger knuckle shot off Clive may remember that twisted finger.

Uncle George who lived at the same house got shrapnel wounds in the back we have a photo of him in uniform with a military motorbike. Sadly he jumped in front of a train at Hither Green. There was a short story in the newspaper at the time. I talked to the head of British Railways about this but they don’t keep records.

Then there is Uncle Jim. Uncle Jim took everything,  but he died a pauper at Bury St Edmunds.  The council cremated him, and put his ashes on nans grave.

The only relation alive is by marriage, and  is Uncle George’s wife.  Mums brother, George was in the SAS.

Our older cousins are passing away,  cousin Tarn died , Cousin Sam (Clive will remember him he has cancer) is living in  somewhere like Thailand  -  sold his house to provide for himself as money goes further.

We have a relation there who as done much ancestry work,  I met him on the family tree. There is a soldier with the surname “Hicks” –  a war memorial statue, more than one, who posed for the sculpture  – we have a photo,  It’s also the memorial statue near us, anyway we’re sure there are more.

Our family tree goes back to 1604 I think but only on mums side.

We have relations in South NZ – Waimate. Might as well put this a relative played for the all blacks. a long time ago.

and Finally….

Uncle Syd was a  boxer –  using the name “Pat Crowley” in Ireland.  Not a good idea to be an Englishman with “the troubles” then. A record of 99 fights undefeated. The information came from a boxing historian who was very excited when we told him who Pat Crowley was. Also spoke to the owner of boxing magazine about George SCRIVEN, grandads son, he was an Olympic hopeful but liked women and a beer he’s the one who sparred with Henry Cooper.

May 26 2012

Unhappy Families – at least you can pick your friends – it continues.


I was all “Woe is me” recently, it’d been about 15 months since the mother died, and coming from a widely dispersed family settling the estate was proving a problem. The first problem was that there wasn’t a will.

The death was sudden and without suffering, and the fact that there was no will shouldn’t be a surprise. If you knew the family you’d know there was no surprise.

So as one of the furthest away from home  I’m also the one who makes the most noise. As you do.

Some of the family were so self absorbed as to be able to say “we don’t need the money it’ll work it’s way out”, and this is fine but alas things don’t just happen. I was a bit pointed when I remarked that the fact that although money might not be needed by them, it might be useful to someone else, like an old people’s refuge, or a injured service mans charity, for instance. Bit of a cad really.

I got a rightful serve by the family, who thought I was picking a fight and making an accusation of lazy, or worse. I felt a bit down about it to be honest. All I wanted was to resolve the estate and to let everyone get on with their disparate lives.

We’re not a  close family and despite a few attempts we are never going to have a reconciliation or a get together, just ain’t going to happen.

But wait…. since then, younger brother has got his wriggle on, and has sworn an allegiance to the queen or whatever it is you have to do in front of a judge, and has managed to secure a deed of probate which essentially means he is in control. FTW!

So the Letters of Administration will be issued and he will be in a position to make the Bank give up their secrets and allows him the power to withdraw the funds and that, essentially close the estate and divvy up the proceeds.

Except….. #1 sister is playing hard to get. This is the sister who spent a lot of time with the mother, and has made a big effort to make the funeral happen and to tidy up the edges. But at the same time #1 sister made some huge judgment calls about trinkets and trivia that benefitted those close. Don’t get me wrong these might have been the right calls and I’m not disputing or going to question it.

But there is some paperwork and some forms that need to be sent from A to B, and so far that hasn’t happened. Which is a can’t or won’t thing.  I’m not  saying that there is nefariousness or underhand at play, and I think that whatever is afoot is played out daily with family estates everywhere. nothing new, no new stories.

But what it does mean is that the mothers estate might only be a couple of months away from settled, and then the family can settle down to it’s own life again.

Related articles
Jul 27 2011

Suicide and punishing the dead by punishing the living.


This from the National Newspaper today Maori MP: ‘Condemn’ suicide victims

Q.How far up your own arse does your head have to be to not think like Waiariki MP Te Ururoa Flavell?

Waiariki MP Te Ururoa Flavell suggested a “very hard stand” should be made on suicide. “If a child commits suicide, let us consider not celebrating their lives on our marae; perhaps bury them at the entrance of the cemetery so their deaths will be condemned by the people,” he wrote. “In doing these things, it demonstrates the depth of disgust the people have with this. Yes it is a hard stance, but what else can we do?”

What the heck has remembrance of a dead person have to do with punishing the relatives and friends by making them suffer indignities?

How does making an example of a dead body by castigation and lack of respect improve things?

How does condemnation and shunning someone aid, assist or promote suicide or suicide prevention?

What cockery is it that denying someone dignity is the cure for suicide?

Any free-thinking, forward thinking society should be able to come to terms that we fail people. We fail young people. As parents we are failing children who commit suicide, as peers we are failing children who commit suicide, as a community we are failing children who commit suicide. Feel free to substitute the world children for people.

Taking your own life, by design or by accident, is horrific and confusing to us. It tortures our own beliefs and boundaries, and causes us to question many things about ourselves, whilst at the same time questioning the motives, mindset and reasons that someone has chosen to end their life.

If you’re of a religious bent then you’re more than horrified, you’re mortified by the sin of it. A ridiculous place to find yourself in, and leaving you to punish the relatives, friends, peers and memory of the deceased.

The continued stupidity of ‘leaders’ who stick blindly to dogma and ‘protocol’ are doing themselves and the people they represent no favours. It’s not the 17th century where we can make a blood sacrifice to your own deity, it isn’t.

For you,Te Ururoa Flavell, it’s about punishing the dead by punishing the living, and in the end it makes not one blind bit of difference if you bury a person outside the gates, whether you mourn only for 1 day not 2 or 3, and if you deny the dead person the dignity of remembrance, in the end it’s about how you’ve let that person down by not caring enough to prevent their death.

And that Waiariki MP Te Ururoa Flavell is the bottom line.

Jul 19 2011

Not beliving in…


Many things.

I’m an atheist. I think I’ve always been one. It’s always been obvious to me that god isn’t watching from the sky. And he doesn’t talk to people. All of that.

The bible. Either you believe it, in toto, or you don’t. You can’t believe bits of it. You have to belive in creation, adam, eve, the talking snake, burning bushes, pillars of salt, arks and all that begetting. It’s the rules.

You also have to belive it’s the whole and only true word of either god or jesus, depends on where you start.

I can’t. It’s ludicrous to think that the words therein have remained the same, since writ. There are ‘standardised’ versions of course, but these can be shown to have been changed to fit current dogma.

I can’t belive in miracles that have left no evidence. I can’t belive that there was light in the east and the wide men from the east followed it, that’s a fantastically awkward journey.

I can’t belive that the bible is, as is, a self enclosed document, not plagiarised, or lifted from other sources or beliefs, I just can’t.

But I can belive that the basic fundamentals of the teachings are collected wisdom. Don’t kill someone, that seems reasonable. Don’t steal from someone, pretty much dead on the money. Don’t lie, again I’m down with that.

Can’t agree with the first 4, about belive only in the one god, make no images, don’t work on the weekend and don’t use god or jesus as an epithet.  And #10 the bit about coveting, that just destroyed the consumer society, so no.

Pasta Rune Enoe kindly says this about the ten commandments and what you can expect if you break any of them, the pastor even questions the order they are given, he’s a bit of a wag.  http://www.landoverbaptist.net/showthread.php?t=16785

Anyway for instance
Thou shalt have no other gods before me. , the punishment is “severe” which  means that you’ll be up for Genocide. Entire cities with men, women, children and animals
must be killed. (Deuteronomy 2:33-34, Numbers 21:34-35, 1 Samuel 15:2-3, Joshua 6:21. Joshua 10:40) In some cases you can keep the girls alive for raping. (Numbers 31:15-18)

So that’s why I can’t belive in the whole thing, some of it is patent nonsense, fiction and shambolic. Am I worried about death? Aren’t we all. And when I’m dead you’ll remember me and then one day you won’t.  And that’s the bottom line.

Jun 23 2011

Losing your mother


Not like at the mall or anything, or in a carpark, but the death of a parent.

In context I left the UK in 1987 and spent a goodly amount of money on a 3 months stay in the US of A.

My father died in 1988 of a long overdue fatal stroke, due to smoking and a sedentary job.

My mother endured many tribulations, including a physically abusive drug addicted brother, and of course seeing her siblings pass away as the years went past.

She ended up in a sheltered accommodation, a granny ghetto, which by all accounts was pretty awesome and very communal, suited my mother to a T

I’d call her 3-4 times a year (I kid myself of course it was more like  twice a year), and send amounts of money as she carped on about shoes or coats or frocks, any little to helped

It was clear that she was older and increasingly frail, with a number of small operations to fix bits of her that were falling off, and had had minor corrective sugary on a hernia.

I spoke to her on the Monday, after the February Earthquake in Christchurch, making sure she understood that Christchurch was the other island, and that she’d been there on a previous visit, and that everyone was fine and dandy and in no dangers.

She had a massive stroke that night, never awoke and died a week or so later.

Closure is a difficult thing to define, and I’ll never have a real sense that I said all I wanted to, you never do.