5 January 2002
Trish, Caitlin, Liam, Evan and I called upon our young man at Pinnaroo
to say hello and collect his Christmas tree before somebody walked away
with it. I was most disappointed to find that a special wreath bearing
an Action Man figurine had been taken away without our permission. May
the fleas of a thousand camels infest their armpits.
The memorial park is very peaceful, but I would much rather our young
man was home with us. Much.
8 January 2003
In the weeks leading up to Aidan's
Trish's aunt Mary lent us a copy of a book titled Hannah's
Gift, the story of a very special little girl who fought a valiant
battle with a Rhabdoid tumour, initially in the kidney. At the time I
only manage to read the prologue, preferring to keep the thought of
at arm's length (or further) and spend the time with Aidan.
Today I finished reading the story and was
by the tale of a super heroine. My thanks to Hannah's mother (mom)
for taking the time to tell the tale. Details of the book can be found here.
14 January 2003
Another brave little girl from the hospital lost her long fight with
neuroblastoma, another type of brain tumour. Natasha was only 9, but
been fighting since before 3. A long and valiant battle. We met Natasha
and her family at the hospital on many occasions. She was another happy
little person with no hair and a will to live.
Our thoughts are with Mike, Judi and family.
15 January 2003
Australian newspaper published a brief obituary for Natasha which
be seen here.
Natasha was also involved with state-wide
for Princess Margaret Hospital with Channel 7's Telethon,
details for which can be seen here.
Trish, Caitlin and I joined a host of others to farewell Natasha at
her primary school chapel. The priest and headmaster spoke eloquently.
It was disappointing, from my perspective, that so few people from the
chapel made the pilgrimage to Pinnaroo for the burial.
Natasha is now resting very close to Aidan. She will be a good friend
to keep him company.
26 January 2003
Empty chairs at empty tables.
On many a morning during the past 3 years, Trish and I would awaken
to the sounds of A-DUN ... CATE-LUN. These were the sounds of Aidan and
Caitlin disagreeing with one anothers colouring style or infringement
personal space ... at volume. They never considered that their parents,
or the neighbours, may wish to be sleeping just a tad longer. We would
often stagger our of bed to find them sitting at their small table,
and pencils strewn all around. A word or two of warning and the voices
would become quiet ... for a short time.
Waking now to dead pan silence is eery and unwelcome.
Last updated: 1-Jan-2004