Christmas Eve Traditions

Today Team Stentiford started a new Christmas eve tradition.

When the children were born, we were living in Fairlight which was a few hundred metres from the Manly Sea Life Aquarium. Since Noah's very second Christmas (his very first was spent in the UK), Tim has taken Noah, then subsequently both children to the Aquarium every single Christmas eve. It has been a Stentiford Christmas eve tradition.

The Aquarium closed its doors in January of this year. When Noah found out about the Aquarium closing, he actually wondered we would do on Christmas eve. His sadness was actually quoted in the Manly Daily's story regarding the Aquarium's closure (without us knowing we were quoted) as we shared his sentiments in the local paper's facebook page.


https://www.dailytelegraph.com.au/newslocal/manly-daily/manly-sea-life-sanctuary-to-close-january-28-after-55-years-as-an-aquarium/news-story/9a77e417170288be56bbdede35e3fc85


For at least since Eliza was born, if not since Noah, Tim has spoken about getting a kayak. Due to other priorities, his desire for a kayak has always taken a back seat.

Until this year!

A few weeks ago, Tim finally bought us (supposedly) a family present which we finally picked up on the weekend and today Tim and the kids took it out for a spin.

In true Stentiford fashion, there was much argument as who was going to sit where and who was going to paddle. I wonder if the paddle was exactly the way Tim imagined it to be.

It was mine as I got a bit of peace and quiet giving me time to write this blog.

Needless to say, today we start a new Christmas eve tradition.

Join us next time?

Merry Christmas everyone.

Here is wishing that Santa finds each of us and warms our hearts with all of our desires.

xox

When Dad speaks....

My Dad passed away a year ago tomorrow.
How fast does time fly?
This time last year, we were all saying our goodbyes to him.
I still count myself lucky to have had the opportunity to have said a proper goodbye.
One last hug. One last I love you.
For him.
For me.
 
No one warned me before my Dad passed how much life really changes.
I don't mean the every day stuff where he is no longer around for me to speak with to get some advice or how we now book for 10 people for family outings instead of 11.
There are no more updates from doctors appointments or which horse he would tip to win the Melbourne Cup.

No one warned me how family dynamics change when one parent dies.

Mum, Dad, my brother Chad and myself.

For those that know my family, they would know that one of my Mum's favourite pastime is to chat. She thrives on telling stories. She thrives on connecting with people.
She thrives on talking about her family, holidays and her bargains.
She can sit next to a complete stranger and can easily find common ground with them.
She is a talker.

As the perfect Yin to my Mum's Yang, my Dad said very little.
He was a man of very few words, often frustrating.
However when he spoke, one listened.

My Dad kept my Mum grounded.
While he encouraged and loved Mum for being herself, there were many times when he imparted that silence is golden.
For the most part, when Dad spoke, Mum listened.

When Dad passed, it became Mum, my brother Chad and myself.

A triangle instead of the even square.

Three pointy ends.

Over the course of the year, each of us have learned to manage our new shape.
As Mum learned to find her new norm which now include driving, managing her house and garden and managing technology, each of us have been bent out of shape.

While we aim for equilateral, more often than not, our family dynamics would be described more as isosceles or scalene.

This is okay as these days, this is how independent Mum has become:

• She is now hooning around Hornsby, proudly telling us that it now only takes her one go to reverse out of her driveway!
• She has quickly become Mrs Fixit, embarking on a few project upgrades around her house with the help of paid handymen.
• She has a weekly routine down pat, between seeing her friends,  staying with her sister and staying with either myself or at my brothers.
• She has been to Manila twice with another trip booked for early next year.

Mum is living her life to the fullest, exactly what my Dad said to her during his final days.

To this date, when Dad speaks, Mum listens.

Happy 1st year in heaven Pa.
Be confident that while you are physically no longer here with us, your soul and spirit lives in us.

We love and miss you.
Rest in peace.

Eliza bringing Lolo ice cream and a snowflake!

Words of Remembrance for Lolo

My Dad was given 70 years here on earth.

He made the most of it.

He was a husband to my Mum, Pa/Dad to Chad, Bambi, Tim and myself, Lolo to his grandchildren, a brother to his siblings, he was Dong, Eddie, Ed, Eduardo to many different people.

While my Dad played different roles at different times to different people, he always had two roles that were constant in his life, and that he enjoyed. An athlete and a teacher.

From a young age, I had many people tell me what an athlete my Dad is.

Did you know that your Dad used to play varsity basketball?

Did you know that your Dad bowls with Paeng Nepumoceno, a brilliant bowler from the Philippines?

Do you know how much I enjoy playing tennis with your Dad?

Do you know how much I looked forward to playing golf with your Dad?

My Dad loved sport. Not only was he a natural athlete, he also spent a lot of time throwing himself in every sport he took on. He would not only spend hours practicing his serve, his swing or his putt, but he would also spend hours reading up on the sport, trying to master the theory.  Our house was always filled with his trophies. 

My Dad was heartbroken when he had to stop playing his regular twice a week game of golf. His dialysis could not provide him with the strength he needed to continue playing his 18 holes.  However, he never stopped swinging his club inside the house. He continued to practice, looking forward to the next time he could play again. He used his love for sport as his incentive to get better every time we would hit a hurdle with his health.  

Life is how you make it!

Money is not everything

Speak what is in your heart and you will find peace

Be happy. Enjoy life.

Once again, from a very young age, I have been hearing my Dad say these words. As a teenager, and a young adult, I saw these phrases of words as “lectures”.  Today, I see them as words of wisdom.

My mum, grandparents, who have passed on, aunts and uncles will tell you that my Dad was not a perfect man. He was stubborn. He was hard headed. He did what he wanted.

While my Dad made many mistakes, I look at the life he lead and see that it’s a life lived well. Many people love him. Many people speak fondly of him. Many people care for him. These past few days very clearly show that.

How did he manage to do that?

The words that he had been saying to me have been the same wisdom he has been practicing.  He speaks these words from experience.

He did and learned many things in the 70 years he was given. He has passed on his learnings to those he loves.

My Dad is a teacher. A life teacher who spoke with much experience and credibility.

So family and friends, I urge you to learn from some of his words.  Here is a man who managed to be happy, enjoy life, speaking the truth but at the same time we can confidently say that he is now sitting with God, ready to take on what Heaven has in store for him.

Forever in our hearts Pa. 

Can we bring our own casket?

 
My Dad’s funeral was the first ever funeral I have had to arrange.

When I was living in America, I was working in event catering with our headquarters next to a church. At one stage, I was nicknamed the ambulance chaser of memorial services as a big part of the business I brought in was from memorial services. That was as far as my funeral arrangements experience goes.

We had not even engaged a funeral director to help us out when Dad passed away. While our family started talking about this sensitive subject, we never got as far as taking any action. All we knew was that Dad was leaving the decision making to Mum, as per his words 'It's time for Mama to be making decisions and Mama will be the one visiting me'.

While my brother and I knew that Mum will be making the decisions, it was up to us to run the logistics to provide her with her choices. My brother told me about his colleague whose Dad passed away early last year, and all the research he had done which he passed on to us. An absolute Godsend. The research was thorough and provided a number of avenues and caveats that we needed to keep in mind, as we started to navigate unchartered territories.

In the brain-dump synopsis, it mentioned purchasing the casket ourselves from a well known members-only warehouse. I was floored. My brother, being a member of this warehouse confirmed that they in fact sell them but it is one of those things that you walk past and don't really pay attention to, unless you finally need to.

Not your average supermarket

It also recommended going to the manufacturer to see what the casket actually looked like, rather than the partial box displayed in the warehouse. So the morning of Dad's passing, we went to a casket manufacturer.

Surreal cannot even begin to describe how I felt when we walked into the building. We immediately walked into rows and rows of special boxes ready to be delivered. It was here that we met another Godsend who took his time to show us the options available to us. Here we learned that caskets can range from about $500 to thousands of dollars. When I shared with him my idea of Rent-A-Casket, he informed us that by law, everyone needs to be placed in a casket whether they are to be buried or cremated. He also warned us that not all funeral directors like for their clients to purchase their own casket as it obviously cuts out a part of their business. We needed to be clear with the funeral director that we had every intention of doing a BYO.  Finally, this Godsend provided clarity on the main difference between Macquarie Park Crematorium and Cemetery and Northern Suburbs, the two places we were already considering for Dad's cremation and final interment.

That afternoon, my brother and I were due to meet with a funeral director in Dulwich Hill. Following Godsend 2's advise, I rang to ask my question. Surprise, surprise, it was a flat out no, their insurance cannot cover the casket and they could not guarantee the workmanship. Jeez, we were only going to use it for a couple of hours, days at most. Godsend 2 was indeed correct.

We rang up a couple of other directors including one that Godsend 2 had referred.  Yes, no problems to a BYO coffin and a director can come to my brother's house that afternoon to meet with us as he lived in the next suburb. Nothing like making it easy and saving us a drive out.


We decided to meet with 2 different directors. One that afternoon, the other the following morning. We would make our decision by lunch time Tuesday given the funeral was on Friday.

The process we undertook was a complete eye opener. I remember being candid with funeral director 1 when he started going through the motions of asking us personal family details he needed for the hospital to release Dad to him, and for the death certificate. We wanted to get 2 quotes that included bringing our own casket, working directly with their florist as well as organising all the mass resources ourselves.

Funeral director 2 came the following morning and we started going through the motions again. Before he got too far with his spiel, we asked him to provide his quote. It was not too long until my brother and I could see that his totals were going to be at least doubled what funeral director 1 quoted. I was eyeballing my brother, willing him to say something. Maybe we completely forgot to let funeral director 2 know that we were sourcing 2 quotes. Finally my brother interrupted his number crunching, telling him that we met with another director the day before who had provided a quote almost half what he had so far written.

What floored us was that funeral director 2 quickly turned around to say 'No problems,  I can match what they have quoted'. He then asked what the amounts were so we showed him the quote. Lo and behold, he managed to match it. We asked him how he could do that and he said that he has different business models at different price ranges. Huh? He further told us that many clients do not have the capacity to negotiate during this very vulnerable time. It made the decision easy for us. 

Clearly, business is business, in life and in death.

Smiling from above

 

 

 

 

Labour of love

Adding colour to the casket

Four-ty-five

Five years ago, when I turned the big four-oh, I wrote a piece about the 40 things I learned through my 30s. 

As I turn forty-five today, or in my mind, 36, I wanted to rehash what I wrote as I think that each of these points continue to be relevant to carry me through my next milestone - the golden decade!

To pay homage to my slight OCD-ness, I have added another five points at the end of my list.

Cake made with love by Tim, Noah and Eliza

Team Stentiford

So yesterday, I turned the big four - oh! Yikes! It seemed as if was just yesterday when I flew to the UK from DC to celebrate my 30th birthday with my brother as I did not want to be alone on my milestone birthday. My life has certainly changed in the last decade - and for the best.

I spent most of my 30's waiting...waiting to meet the man for me, waiting to have my own children, waiting to find inner peace. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to be blessed so abundantly.

So as I turn a new decade, I want to share 40 things that I have learned in the last decade. It has been a massive learning experience for me as I transitioned from being completely selfish to someone who barely has time for herself these days (thank God for a husband who is very good at taking care of me).

I would like to think that my story is still being written, my picture is still being painted and the puzzles are still being put together.

I can only look forward to what the next decade has in store.

1. Life is how you make it! (Thanks Dad!!!)

2. Be grateful for what you have

3. Never compare

4. All in God's time

5. Children will drive you to drinking

6. Happy wife = happy life

7. Pray for a partner who makes you a better person

8. Its all about timing!

9. Never judge - you never know what goes on behind closed doors

10. Prayers work

11. I will never be a size 8 -the sooner I accepted my body size, the sooner I became at peace with myself

12. Housework will never end

13. Marriage is a verb

14. Parenthood is like riding a roller coaster ride

15. Children can bring you so much life but also suck the life out of you

16.  Food and lifestyle choices do impact your body

17. Appreciate your parents -  they are/were trying to do their best

18. Traveling opens the mind

19. Pick your battles

20. Social media is here to stay

21. Why worry about things you have no control of (Thanks Lolo Maneng!!!)

22. Take care of your teeth - especially when you are young

23. The best gifts my parents gave me - Love, Support and Opportunities

24.  Does it really matter?

25.  Happiness really is a choice

26.  Know your body shape and find your style

27. Everything has a cost

28. Sometimes the cheapest option is not the best

29. Find a good hairdresser

30. Sleep deprivation is a form of torture

31. Grab opportunities

32. Listen to your intuition

33. Let go of your sense of entitlement

34. Pray for others

35. Try to be the best wife, mother, sister, daughter, friend, niece, cousin etc. possible

36. Read washing labels, especially on dresses

37. Be happy for others - what comes around, goes around

38. You will never need everything you pack when going away

39. Ask for help, the world will never fail to surprise

40. Believe in someone/something greater than you
41. Teach your children to be proud of their heritage - they will be proud of it one day
42. Never underestimate a child's comprehension or ability
43. Reality tv fries your brains, but can be so addictive
44. Peace and quiet are worth its weight in gold
45. Family is everything

My 40th Birthday Card

Cause and effect!

I had been on Tim's case for me to work part-time ever since Noah started kindergarten. Working full-time meant that I missed out on a ridiculous amount of opportunities to spend time at Noah's primary school. Missed out on canteen duty, Tim was Noah's parent volunteer for literacy groups every Thursday morning and I always felt guilty about going to work late after attending a school mass or a morning assembly.

Tim and I agreed that we could potentially make it work for when Eliza started kindergarten. So just before Eliza started school, I started the negotiations at work to cut down to 3 days/week. It was not an easy process (and something I want to write about one day) but eventually I got what I wanted.

2017, Noah was in Year 2, Eliza started Kindergarten, and I was a part-timer. Yay! I threw myself in all things school: I volunteered in Eliza's classroom, a class parent for Noah's class, and put my hand up for the Fundraising committee- helping solicit donations for the big event! I was rocking my new gig.

January 2017

It was about early May last year when we started hearing potential Federal Education Funding changes. The Catholic Schools Office (CSO) wrote to us informing us of the Federal Government's proposed new school funding model, the Australian Education Amendment Bill 2017 which was going to change the way Catholic schools were being funded. The CSO alerted us that "regrettably" when the CSO committed to a fee increase of 3-5% in 2016, the CSO did not foresee that the incumbent Government would introduce a new Bill into parliament which would potentially have devastating consequences for the local Catholic schools within the Northern Beaches and the North Shore.

We were encouraged to write to our local MP (who happens to be Tony Abbott - whose children went to Noah and Eliza's school), other MP's, the Education Minister and to the Prime Minister. Online petitions and facebook groups were created to help lobby against the passing of this Bill. The CSO also held a number of parent forums.

We were informed that if the Bill is passed, it is anticipated that school fees would increase by at least 20%.

So between May and June, Tim and I spent a lot of time trying to understand what we were facing. We could not understand why the Broken Bay Diocese, which our school belonged to, was facing this massive hit when the rest of the Catholic schools that belonged in the Sydney or Parramatta Dioceses were not facing similar consequences.

We quickly learned that the CSO had autonomy on the distribution of funds received from the Government.  At times, more funding was given to a needier school. With the new Bill, funding will be distributed based on the socio-economic status (SES) of the individual school. This meant that a schools in our Diocese score a higher SES compared to our friends in the Parramatta Diocese. Higher SES means lower Federal funding resulting in increased school fees. This will mean that the CSO could no longer move funds around.  This also meant that the Bill will not discriminate between the individual families, their earning capacity and their life stories. We all know that just because we live where we live, does not mean we are all C-Suite, Porsche driving, Mortgage free families. Far from it!

Since we loved the school and the community, and the children were happy, we started writing our letters and getting our family and friends to get behind the petition.

Now, I am a very much a realist. I guess it helps me embrace change sooner rather than later. As soon as we had done what we needed to do, I knew that Tim and I started to think about the reality of the situation. Could we manage the increase in fees? Is it worth it? Do I need to go back to full-time work?

It was at this time that we started entertaining moving the children to our local public school.  We considered Forestville Public for Noah back in Kindergarten but since we were out of area,  we received our acceptance confirmation quite late. By that time, we were truly married to attending OLGC. So me being me, I phoned Forestville Public and made enquiries.

Tim and I are not really sure how much the CSO fought to stop the new Bill. While we were informed that our Bishop and the CSO were constantly in Canberra creating dialogue, no confidence was instilled in us. In fact, it was parents of other Catholic schools in the North Shore that were demanding meetings with the Education Minister. The sad truth is that Tim and I felt that the CSO left it all to the parents to fight. We felt that "our hands are tied" card was played.

It was 22nd June when the Senate passed the new Bill. It was shortly after that we met with the school principal of  Forestvile Public.

While the CSO has given a reprieve in substantial fee increases, Tim and I made the decision to move the children before the school year ended. We thought that if there was any chance of moving schools in the future, we would be better off moving them while they were still at Stage 1 of their learning journey.

It is sad to have said goodbye to a wonderful school community, especially when we had not expected nor planned it.  Causes which were out of our hands.  However we are grateful for the options available to us, making the effect to be as positive as possible. And it certainly has been!

Eliza's End of Year Presentation

Noah receives his class 'Aim High' Award

The gift of a new life - A new angel - written March 30, 2006

I have always believed in angels. I believe that God sends His angels thru our family and friends. Every single person that has crossed paths with me has been some form of an angel… holding my hand, bringing me hope, making me laugh, guiding and guarding me.

Recently, I have realised that God sends His angels thru the new lives that He surrounds us with.
Our family has recently been blessed with a new angel. She is almost 2months old. Her name is Isabel Anne.

It is amazing how much Isabel has brought new life to our family.  Living away from my family, I have not personally witnessed this little girl’s magic. I have yet to meet her. However, telephone conversations, emails and any form of communication between myself, my parents and my brother continue to be a litany of testaments of how special she is.

Isabel brought back Charles and Rose together. I think that this time last year, my brother was thinking of where his next adventure in life ought to be. Little did Charles expect that his new adventure would include changing nappies, sleepless nights and taking Isabel for nightly walks with Rose around the neighbourhood. Her unexpected arrival continues to lead me to believe that we are not in control of our lives. Only God is.

The nicest part is that just this afternoon, my brother told me how happy he truly is with what he has and where he is.

Isabel has also touched my father’s heart. I had never thought of my father to be a doting grandfather, but he now is. My mum tells me how my dad will go home early once he finds out that the little angel is visiting them, and how disappointed he would be if they miss each other. My brother and his family now visit my parents on Sundays. I have been told that my father no longer schedules any golf games on Sundays and how he is the first one to take her and play with her. I have also been told that my father has volunteered to help take care of her once Charles and Rose go back to work. Our world has truly turned upside down!!!

As for the doting aunt who lives so far away, I am forever bugging my brother for photo updates. I find myself looking at her photos again and again, albeit the same one. I can honestly say that I feel love in my heart for this little baby. She continues to show me that unconditional love truly exists, to continue to trust in God’s will and how beautiful Gods work is.

I can bet any money that almost each new baby has been referred to as an angel.  Maybe it is their innocence, their gift of love and hope and their purity which bring such amazing powers into our lives.

How do they know exactly how to touch our hearts?

Dear Noah and Eliza

Today the new school year started.
Noah, you are now in Year 3, Eliza in Year 1.
Both of you returning to your no-longer-new school, Forestville Public School.

I wish you both a wonderful year, a year full of laughter, and joy.
I pray that you are both blessed with great teachers. Teachers who appreciate your love for learning. Teachers who will challenge you, helping you both to grow. Teachers who will show you patience and compassion when things are taking a while to make sense.
I pray that you will continue to enjoy making new friends, and being wonderful friends.
Always remember Charlotte's web; pigs and spiders can be the best of friends too.
I pray that you will always have the confidence to believe in giving everything (well at least most things) a go!

I know that some days you will want to grow up much faster than you should. There will be days that you will tell me that someone else is allowed to do the things you want to do, or someone else has the things that you want.

There will be plenty of occasions where you will cry and tell me that I am the worse mum in the world. How your life is not fair. Many decisions will be made without you fully understanding my reasons.

However, please know that I will always have the best intentions in mind for you.

Mummy and Daddy want the best for you, and we will strive for this. However we also want you to grow up appreciating what you have and to learn that hard work and patience go a long way.

So my geese, lets grab this 2018 school year by the horn and create many remarkable memories.

I love you both.

Mum xo

Is Lolo going to die?

That Thursday when my Dad went into palliative care, one of the things I most worried about was telling the children the truth, and how they would react. Would they be scared? Would they be uncomfortable? Are they too young to know the truth?

Noah and Eliza knew that Lolo was unwell, and that he had been in hospital for some time. Praying for his recovery was a big part of our nightly prayers. As soon as my Dad moved to the renal ward, we encouraged the grandchildren to visit as often as they could, even for short stints. We even discussed the possibility of spending Christmas Day at the ward.  We would get there early in the hopes of securing the lounge (a big room where one could take a break from being in the wards) to accommodate the family.

There were a couple of times when they asked Is Lolo going to die, to which I always answered I hope not and that the doctors and Lolo are all working hard for him to get better.

Since we had a pre-booked trip to Diamond Beach the week before Christmas, leaving that weekend, Tim and I knew that we had to tell the children that evening that Lolo was really sick and we were cancelling Diamond Beach. We emphasised to them that we needed to spend as much time with him, and that we needed for our family to be together.

The children started wailing.

Tim and I were not sure if they were wailing because we were no longer going on holidays or if they understood the significance of cancelling the holiday.

We comforted them with the fact that their cousins, Ate, Isaac and Zachy were also cancelling Diamond Beach. and that they could hang out with them as much as they wanted.

Suddenly, Eliza asked that question, Is Lolo going to die?

From reading some Mummy forums regarding the topic of death and children, I knew that the worse thing we could do was to lie, to continue telling them I hope not, on the pretext of trying to protect them,  While we needed to protect the children, we needed to be transparent.

So I said, there is a big possibility, he is really really sick.

Eliza then proceeded to ask is Lolo going to heaven?

This one I was sure of my answer - Yes I said, I am sure he is.

How will his body go to heaven?

I said that his body will be placed in a special box, then this box will be taken to a special place which will help bring him to heaven.

That seemed to satisfy.

Noah and Eliza never asked questions about Lolo again that weekend. They accepted that we were no longer going on holidays and that we were going to spend most of the weekend at the hospital.

I will never know their first hand reactions were when they found out that Monday morning that Lolo had passed. Tim had to tell them. Tim tells me that they were upset but I don't have any first hand memories of their faces or of their initial words.

I had very little energy left to give Noah and Eliza between the time Dad died and his funeral. Thank God for Tim and my sister in law, life blessings to myself and my brother, who kept the children fed, occupied, engaged and happy. They both held the fort to keep the family running, and have as much normality as possible.

I still wasn't sure how Noah and Eliza felt about Lolo's passing.

My Dad had a viewing prior to his funeral mass. We knew that the viewing would involve an open casket. Tim and I agreed that we would take the children's lead on this, that we would let Noah and Eliza decide if they wanted to see Lolo in his special box.

At the viewing, I remember not needing to ask Noah and Eliza if they wanted to see Lolo in his special box. Before I knew it, they were viewing Lolo, together with Ate, Isaac and Zachary. I think they even looked at him before I did.  I don't know whether it was pure curiosity but it was a heartwarming sight. So brave. So normal. No need to over complicate. One that would have my Dad smiling from heaven.

As a parent, it can often be hard to find the right mix between protecting and being transparent. The children are still young, they should be protected for as long as possible. However, we should never underestimate their comprehension and capabilities. It will help them grow!

Who knows?

All I know is that we continue to pray for Lolo, no longer for him to get better soon but to watch over us from heaven. The children have also started to get used to going to the cemetery to visit Lolo's grave, talking to him, praying for him. They have also been observing much of the graves in the cemetery, playing the guessing game if it's a coffin burial, or not! This is our new norm.

Yes, Lolo died, and it's okay Mummy!

Noah and Eliza visiting Lolo's grave.

One month ago - 18 December 2017

My Dad passed away a month today.  Monday, December 18, 2017 at 2am, my Mum who spent the night at the hospital was woken up by a nurse to let her know that he had passed. He was still warm so he would have passed no more than 15 minutes before that.

We were prepared for this.  The Thursday beforehand, our family had a meeting with my Dad's medical team. By this time, my Dad had already been in hospital for almost 10 weeks. 10 weeks! The first trimester of a pregnancy almost completed; a whole Term at school . A long time.

The whole journey started over 2 years ago. While trying to search for this blog, I saw that I wrote a half finished entry talking about the beginning of Dad's journey. It was a journey that started with his long term gout issues that ended up with chronic kidney failure. Sigh.

Over 2 years ago,  my Dad started his daily dialysis. He opted for peritoneal as this was a gentler approach, and it allowed him to do his dialysis at home. To begin with, he was doing multiple sessions during the day. Eventually, he was able to have his dialysis overnight, while sleeping.  In that 2 years, he also managed to have a triple bypass heart surgery, as well as cataract eye surgery. While his dialysis and surgeries knocked him back, he always got himself up.

Dad has his heart surgery in May 2017. He was the first to admit that the surgery made him feel better. A lot of family and friends who attended his once-in-a-lifetime 70th birthday celebration last August commented how well he looked. We said that our goal for 2018 was for him and Mum to go through the kidney transplant. They were both working hard towards this. Around September, he started picking up his golf clubs again, swinging inside the house, putting in the garden - a fantastic sign for our family!

It was the first week of Term 4 2017, j ust after the October long weekend.  My brother had his 40th birthday the week before where Dad joined them for lunch at Three Blue Ducks. The photos depicted smiles.

My brother's 40th the week before hospitalisation

Noah and Eliza started at their new school that week. It was a Wednesday morning when my brother rang me to tell me that Dad had phoned him that morning, asking him to take him to Royal North Shore. Dad hadn't been feeling well since the weekend. I made my way to the hospital after dropping the children at school. We spent most of the day at Emergency with the doctors trying their hardest to figure out why Dad's heart rate were completely erratic.

Eventually peritonitis was diagnosed.

Since my Dad's heart rate was completely erratic, they ordered that he be taken to ICU for observation. Most likely a week or so in hospital. We left Dad there, reminding him to be nice to the doctors and nurses!

Around 6am the following morning, my brother receives a phone call from the hospital. Dad is not doing well, get the hospital as fast as you can. Dad has become septic, where the infection has moved into his bloodstream. The doctors intubated him. They informed us that the next 24 hours would be critical. If he didn't respond in that time, we would lose him.

It was at that time when my tears started to roll. While I tried to remain hopeful, the realist in me knew that it could be his time.

We spent 3 weeks in ICU.  Dad gradually battled the peritonitis. He was a fighter.

However, in that time, Dad developed fluid in his lungs.

We are not sure if it was the water that he was taking or the food that we were feeding him, but only a couple of days after coming out of his sedation, they found that food and liquid were going down the wrong tube. Instead of the esophagus, it was going down to his lungs.

Dad was still in ICU when he was put on thickened fluids, no food. He was in pain. Dad loved to eat. Eating is in our genes. It was the start of his hell.

The doctors ordered drains to remove the fluid from his lungs. While it helped, it never really cleared.

My Dad was eventually deemed strong enough to be moved to the renal ward.  We saw this as a positive sign.

However, he continued to cough and nurse a constant itchy throat.

Dad was given exercises to try and help him strengthen his muscles. The nurses and his physiotherapist asked him to sit upright for hours, to walk to the toilet, to take as many steps as he can, or try eating on his own. It seemed easy enough, but to my Dad it had become his next hell.

It was so difficult to watch my Dad fail these exercises when he had been such an athlete for all of his life. My Dad was never one to stop challenging himself. However he could not understand why he felt so weak, tired and just had nothing to give.

It was the week we were in Uluru when my Dad's frustration had started to depress him.  This was week 4-5.

My Dad started saying his farewell to my brother.

When I visited my Dad after returning from Uluru, he too, continued to be emotional with me.  He felt that he was dying. He was in tears. When I left him, he said I love you to me. Words that he was very sparse with. I rang my brother to let him know of what had happened. I told my brother that we if didn't get a turn for the better that week, Dad was just going to keep slipping down.

I went back to work in tears.

We got that turn that week. My own Dad claimed it a miracle, that he started to feel so much better.

Week 6 to week 9 was a rollercoaster.  There were days when his markers were going well, there were days when it was getting worse. There were days when Dad felt strong enough to do everything his physio asked and there were plenty of days where he just slept. At this time, his cough was not getting better and he was still on a soft foods diet. 

We heard stories of people going home after 3 months so hope never left our family. At one stage, our Dad's nephrologist aimed to have my Dad come home for Christmas.

Dad finally got to go out and see sunshine in the 10 weeks he was in hospital

One of his very good days

It was around week 7-8 when the respiratory team informed us that CT scans and Xrays continued to show the fluids around Dad's lungs. We discussed surgery but the surgeons were not confident given Dad's poor health. A less riskier approach was suggested.

So once again the doctors ordered for Dad to have drains. He was given a specific medication to try and help break down the pockets of fluid that has built up. Tim told me that the medication is usually given to those with cystic fibrosis to try and break down the fibers in the lungs.

Wednesday, December 13, 2017, we were told that the fluid continue to spread and that the specific medication has in fact started to make Dad bleed, which has caused him pain in his back.

It was Thursday, December 14, 2017, when our family met with my Dad's team of doctors. His nephrologist, the renal registrar, respiratory specialist, speech pathologist all met with us to discuss Dad's situation.

We discussed how our last course of action caused him pain rather than helping him.

If Dad continued his dialysis, with his lung infection, he would most likely have another 2-3 months to live but would be in pain.

The doctors then shared with us what we already knew - that Dad was tired and that he has had enough. He wanted all his medical interventions to stop, and for his last few days to be free of pain.

My tears didn't stop rolling.

We were given 4-7 days. My Dad was moved to his own room so that we can have some privacy.

One by one his interventions were removed. He was eventually given morphine but before the morphine kicked in, he complained of being in a lot of pain. He was in his hell.

We made the most of that weekend. Long lost friends came over to pay him a visit. We celebrated my nephew Isaac's birthday with a cake. We continued to tell stories. We continued to pray. He even managed to skype his siblings on the Sunday, continuing to provide them with his words of wisdom.

No words were left unsaid

Celebrating Isaac's birthday with Lolo

My Dad was happy.  Peace embedded him as he finally regained control. He knew that he was dying. We knew he was dying. We were gifted with the sense of closure.

Closure is an amazing gift

Monday was day 4. Mum decided to stay by Dad's side that night. I decided to have my phone next to me, with the ringer on.

So when Dad passed in his sleep early that morning, we were prepared for it.