A lone bagpiper played for him.

Don's Funeral was held at our place and a lone bagpiper played for him in the late autumn sunshine. After the shit which went on and his suffering, the girls and I sat side by side, and no tears at all much. There was a feeling of marvellous calm. He was piped down our long driveway and again at the cemetary which is at Wauchope and surrounded by gum trees... we are traditionalists this way.

The girls are still with me and will be till next Wednesday, and we are enjoying home, the warm sunshine, the feeling that his garden has been left to us as a sort of gift for this time. As bad as things were and no doubt will be, we have all felt this wierd calmness. I have no doubt that when thegirls return home they will experience the same grief I did for my own father, but for now there is a feeling of peace, and relief for him.

The young man playing the pipes was to play at our daughter's wedding which was to be held on Sat. 19th of this month. He will still do so all going well, in a while.

This was read out at the service and I gave it to him some time back.

The Man and Me
Sleeping at night my palm opened flat on his chest,
Warmth feeding warmth, I know we are blessed.
No matter the day’s misunderstandings and blues;
No matter points made and lost;
No matter who thinks who’s the boss;
Sleeping always next to him is the life I would choose.

Re arranging pillows, blankets and such;
Both easy to fire off, yet both easy to touch.
Each unwilling to give way, equal to the end.
The Celt in us both, a marvellous brew,
Stirred and stirring, a wondrous stew.
Sleeping hand to chest our rousing battles mend.

Ah! And give me that fire, pure and unpolished,
And give me the spirit, no argument undemolished,
And give me the wickedness and its play,
Give me the empathy and knowing
Give me the common sense for our growing.
And let us wake hand to chest at the start of the day.

How dear to me is the man who breathes beside me at night?
How dear is the spirit, which gives his eyes their light?
How dear to me is the world we share?
There is no measure I can explain
But that his pain gives me also pain
And that our love is sometimes more than we can bear.

For me he stands, young, fair and clear-eyed as in youth.
For me, the things he feels I know, they are truth.
And I will hold these truths like rare and precious treasure,
For in a shifting sea of easy useless lies
The values of such truths are cherished ties
To the love which lives within the heart which is without measure.

So let me lie for hours, my hand upon his chest,
Thinking on the treasures with which we are blessed.
Such as our children treading out into the world to be,
Carrying the dreams of all our life;
Treasures as sacred as the man and wife
And as sacred as the love which binds the man to me.
With Love Therese

In a while, a week or so, I will catch up with all of you who have given me support...so don't disappear okay.

My lovely Don died late Thursday nght. He made it home .

No anger, just sadness.

He was beautiful and so brave to the end and died quietly with the girls either side, and myself at his head with my hand tucked under the side of his neck as we often did.

Three of my sisters were there, and his brother and a friend, in a quiet room...he deserved such a peaceful seamless death to this life. My sister who travelled home on the air ambulance with him said he said his mother was there and he said she was smiling and well and patted him on the chest sometimes.

Time with the girls is precious today but am letting them sleep for now.

Don is not going to make it, and has requested they stop feeding him. He has suffered far to many interventions and now the thing he wants most is to be flown home by Air ambulance, just to be at home for the little time it takes for my lovely brave man to die.

Sometimes I feel as if I feel nothing, then other times great dry sobs just come out of no where and go as quickly. I look at him, his eyes their shine, his smile and feel as if it is unreal...

No prayers and wishes please, just that he has an easy time from here on in.

Thank you all

Thanks so much for all your well wishes, thoughts and prayers. I'd like to visit all your blogs and catch up on you but there is always a waiting line for this kiosk...the only one in the hospital. Basically spending my days up here and back down to the Rotary Lodge (Greenwich Inn) near the hospital...its a real resort that one :( but no complaints its very cheap.

Don has now had a tracheaotomy (unsure of spelling) ant the next week or two will tell if his own breathing will be enough to keep him alive or whatever. I don't want to consider the whatever.

I found out today he now has MRSA (Golden Staph) not only on the arterial line site but also in his lungs which is just bloody great. And another bug Klebsillia Pneumoniae (again unsure of spelling) poor bugger. He is such a brave man - no choice I guess. He looks so little.

Mirk did say the Mackays were tough stuff... or words to that effect...they sure are. Who else's lot could thrive on seaweed and sermons and live in the topmost part of Scotland ...BRRRR

I eould like to hear whats been happening to you all so if you could take the time (just a sentence or three and let me know whats been happening ... I would appreciate it.

I am getting Looks to get off this machine now...but still got a few cents worth left.

The net is a funny creature isn't it? All these wonderful wishes from people I feel as if I know pretty well.... you area great mob. and thanks again.

I hope I have good news soon...but we are still here and thats good for now.

Finally figured out my password... I finally worked out how to post from a kiosk (in the hospital)

Thank you all for your kind wishes re Don's health. Unfortunately he seems to be getting worse daily. He has been in Intensive Care now for almost two weeks on and off a ventillator. Everyt time they take him off, he seems to go through a process where he can't eliminate Carbon Dioxide and he quickly goes back into Respitory Arrest...so now the ventillator is in full time till they can figure out why. Also his lungs just keep filling up with fluid which is constantly being drained and he has a tube draining off from each lung.

I am very afraid for him and I know he is suffering dreadfully, but because of the ventillator tube, and his sedation which seems to be a bit too much it is hard to communicate with him apart from him nodding or shaking his head.

Melissa (eldest) was really shattered the other day when he accidentally bit through a little blue tube which goes down alongside the breathing one to hold it in place ...I think with a little balloon...a luttle gush of air came out and he looked straight at her, and we heard his voice for the first time in a while and he just whispered "Help me." Poor bugger. Then they descended en masse with trollies and doctors etc as he was unable to breathe effectively...

Hi will only survive if there is a miracle. I am hoping for one, but accepting slowly that it all may be too much for him.

I can't even touch his face with my fingers because he now has MRSA (GMulti resistant Staph where an arterial line was taken out...we have to glove up and put stupid aprons of plastic on...its a joke...the Staph is right throughout the hospital and has been since the 1980's when he fist caught it.

Hopefully today will bring some good news

Some help needed please

Hold this wonderful man in your thoughts if you can...he is very very sick and I have grown rather fond of him over the past 35 (hell...that long?) years...

and the wonderfully handsome doggie Thorn is never wrong...because he usually favours the girls...so has made Don and Honorary girl

and that is an honour coming from Thorn the wonder dog.

Away for a week or two.

Tonight Don was finally taken by Air Ambulance to Sydney (Royal North Shore Hospital) and hopefully will get some of his chest problems sorted a bit.

I'm driving down early tomorrow . Should be there about 2. Hopefully for no longer than 2 weeks...our eldest daughter gets married in just over a month and is awful to think we might be stuck down there so prayers or wishes that its straight forward and that they can help him and also get him back home in time.

I hate leaving this place...its like a sanctury from the world...but that too is an illusion and probably do me good to realise this fact. People are what matters most really ...

I found this lovely photo
taken of our youngest many years back ...she was 10 here and 29 now...when I look at thi I see the spirit of her, even though she was tying her Golliwog (wooo ahhh ) dollie to a tree stump necause it had been a bit bad,,,who could tell?

Easter Monday.

Today is one of those achingly beautiful days that you try to remind yourself to remember. There is a soft misting rain, and the sun is out here and there..all the trees are hanging droplets looking like multi coloured jewels, and dripping gently...its cool and quiet. Don is asleep...he goes first to the local hospital tomorrow all going as it should, and then Sydney. I really hate things getting out of our control, and hate being away from the bush about the house. I am in no way moved to travel, I see this place fresh every morning early (am a very early birdie), and its like its all new again for me. I am lucky this way I think.

I had an odd dream the night before last. It was so real. I was amongst family in the present time. But my 29yr old daughter was there as about 4-6 yrs of age. SShe had on a really wwell worn cotton T shirt nightie she used to love, which seemed to grown with her. As a child, if we had family visit, she would sometimes wait for me around corners and jump up into my arms and give me really good hugs...for no reason. IN my dream she did this over and over and it was wonderful. Each hug felt like it was lifting something...but I could smell her skin...all kids have a different smell.

(found this photo of her in that nightie - 1985)

It was much more special that how I am telling, she was not the wellest of kids, and always had a soft touch, easy to pick up and eyes you could drown in which seemed to be too old for a little kid.

(this has absolutely no relevance to this post but I just found it again...was taken about 6 months before Don had his accident and Melissa was 6 and Ali 3...Don was 32. It was very muddy. Alison used to wonder why she was sitting over by herself - sob- But I'll have to tell her that there's a bloody great uncomfortable bit of metal sticking up in between her and Melissa - they do love you Alison!!!)

Our eldest 32, was in the dream and as usual she was happy and smiling with her great flashing smile and lovely dark blue eyes, but she was the age she is today...odd dream.

In the dream I felt right. That things were wonderful...a gift dream I think.

American ?
Something I am curious about.... and raised in a comment with Mirk...

How come it is that Canadians live in North America but are Canadians.?
Mexicans live in North America but are called Mexicans ?
Peruvians live in South America and called Peruvians?
Brazilians live also in South America and ...yes Brazilians ?

But Americans live only in the United States and are never called United Stateians...but Americans as if they live and own the whole North and South of America...?

Is it just me or is this wierd stuff?