Denny is a dab hand at fixing anything - unlike David and me who do not have that expertise and are daunted by the complexities of any of the tasks involved. So they were able to buy a secondhand bus with the confidence they could make it into a fabulous vehicle - we have to start with the fabulous one and then hope it stays that way!
So we left them after a visit to Tokaanu. We had hidden in a Tokaanu back street (there is only one!) while discussing which way to go - plans were fluid, obviously... We were spotted by the Tulloch/Meyer team so followed them to Motuopa to have lunch, but the prices were too high for all of the pensioners, so David and I spent a night at Taupo Airport at the NZMCA camp while we tried to make up our minds what to do and where to go.
That afternoon, though, we had a call from David's sister Ginny to tell us that his Auntie Georgina (96) was not expected to last too much longer - a few days to a week. As David wanted to go and see her, we decided to make our way home earlier than planned. Overnight we decided we would head down the Forgotten World Highway and spend one more night away from home, but with a message in to Georgie's oldest son, Frank, to find out if her condition had changed overnight.
As we headed out of Tokaanu towards Pukawa, the message came that she was not likely to last weekend. So a rapid U-turn (safely, in a little side road) and we headed back towards Turangi to rejoin State Highway 1.
We got back to Waikanae just after 3pm and I dropped David off at the railway station so he could catch a train into the city and a bus to Karori - I could have driven him, but it was a Friday, and the traffic leaving the city on Fridays is diabolical. So I went home and blobbed with a glass of wine and some nibbles, and left David to fend for himself. Such a mean woman, I am.
David was pleased he went to see Georgie - she was not conscious, but he was able to chat to her and say goodbye, working on the theory that hearing is the last sense to go. Also he had time with Georgie's middle son, Andrew, and was pleased to be able to offer some support to him.
Georgie died a day or so later, so coming home immediately had been a good idea.
The funeral was held in the RC church in Tawa - the place where Georgie went to mass pretty much every day for decades - apart from when it was closed because for earthquake strengthening. Then she used to go to whichever church it was the catholics shared in Tawa. She was a redoubtable woman, Georgina. She lived on top of a hill - a steep street with an even steeper driveway. She used to walk up and down the hill and driveway every day, down to the shops and church and back. Sometimes more than once a day. She had a string - could not be called a rope - attached at various points to the bank down her driveway. She didn't hold it or use it for support, but she ran it through her fingers - I think that was her sop to her sons to show them she was taking care of herself, see?!
I dropped David and Joe off near the church for the funeral, but I didn't attend. My head would have exploded from having to suppress the expressions of disbelief that an atheist feels when confronted with a catholic funeral mass ... it was only out of consideration for the believers in the congregation - honest!
I did go back for the after-match function (the eats, as Frank described them) and to catch up with everyone. She may have been 96, but she had a massive funeral - well over 200 people were there. I didn't realise there were so many catholics around. Stop it, Marilyn!!! Many of the people were locals that she had chatted with on a daily basis as she trotted around the shops - she was indeed a well-known local character.
And then we went to the burial at Whenua Tapu. It is a beautiful spot, on the way to the Kapiti Coast, and it was a lovely sunny day.
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| L-R: Georgie's sons with my David - Andrew, Frank and David. |
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