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