Jolly good company
Tuesday, 03 October, 2006
Today Ben's grandma died. She was 85 years old—a very lovely and generous lady. I sometimes wonder whether it would have been hard for her to see her eldest grandchild marry an Asian girl. But she was always very nice to me—she told me to call her “grandma” and it was nice having an adopted grandmother given that my only surviving grandparent lives in another country. Ben said that she liked me. I also think she liked the fact that I attended the same high school that her, her daughter and Lizz went to.
When we were over at the Beilharz's place this evening, Cathy showed me a book she had been writing in—it was one of those “Grandmother's memories”-type books, and she'd filled in most of the different bits, e.g. “My least favourite teachers at school” and “Games we used to play as kids”. It was fascinating to read. She'd grown up in such a different era—when Carss Park, Carlton and Blakehurst had been nothing but paddocks and the boys went barefoot to school. She lived through World War II and lost her husband in a plane crash in Papua New Guinea before Cathy was born. They say that Ben looks like him, and it's kind of odd to think that Ben is now older than his grandfather had been when he died.
At birthdays she used to sing,
Here we are again,
happy as can be,
all good friends and
jolly good company.
Never mind the weather,
never mind the rain.
Here we are together
and oops we go again!
I will miss her very much. But I know that one day I will see her again at the end of the age.
Blinks:
A way of funding writing in the future: pitch and idea and get people to support it.
Place where you can hire play equipment for parties, etc.
How to recalibrate the home button on your iPhone.
Unsolicited manuscripts accepted by Pan Macmillan with certain conditions.
Thought Balloon is a group blog in which the writers tackle a new theme every week? month? with one-page scripts. This URL is for their Phonogram ones.
How to sew a zipper on a knitted garment.
Issues organised by tale.
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This passage has comforted me many a time:
I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:
“Death is swallowed up in victory.”
“O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?”
Thanks George!
My condolences to you and Ben, Karen. She sounds like someone I wish I’d known…