Monday, June 10, 2013

8 years ago.

8 years ago I got on a plane from Los Angeles and flew home. The whole week prior Aunty Hop had been back and forth to the Doctors. Whenever I rang home, which was every day for, up to that point, 5 years, she would always answer and talk for a while before handing the phone to Aunty Marva.

It was the longest plane ride I had ever taken despite it being a 13 hour flight, because I knew what I was coming home to.

I landed in Auckland at 5am, my sister there to meet me. I had a plane out of Auckland to Napier at 7am. I got home just after 8.30am and she was on a hospital bed in the lounge. She could not communicate at all and all I could do was cry to see her that way. She died just after lunch that afternoon surrounded by us. After that experience, I told myself I didn't want to see someone take their last breath ever again. This is where I'm appreciative that Aunty Marva spared me from that and that Larry knew how I felt about it and they both died, sadly on their own, but sparing me from having those memories of them as my last.

8 years.
Miss you every day.
Still listen real hard to hear your infamous whistles.

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