It has been quite a subdued week. We have spent it in Bangkok, kind of aimlessly, while quietly grieving for Nana – Phyllis Findon – who died on 14th November aged an impressive 95 years. She was and will remain a Gentle Giant.
For some reason, Daniel woke up in the middle of the night/early hours of Saturday morning and decided to ring Nana to say hello. It had been a week since he (and the kids) had talked to her, and although he knew she had been moved from her room in the rest home to palliative care in the hospital wing, he just wanted to touch base with her (as he so often does). She had passed away, just after midnight, NZ time. Nana meant the world to Daniel, and although he articulated his public grief in a nice eulogy that his brother read out for him at the funeral, it is nothing to the raw emotion of his private grief. Before leaving NZ, Daniel’s work extended through the upper north island, which meant that he saw Nana regularly – he would drop in to have a cup of tea with her.
Daniel organised a 95th birthday party for Nana a week before we left NZ. She was so appreciative of it and of Daniel, and said that it was the nicest thing anyone had done for her. That is Nana Findon – always doing things for other people, but expecting nothing in return, and joyfully surprised when someone does something for her.
For me, I feel lucky and privileged to have had her in my life for all my time in NZ. When we lived outside of Hamilton, her house was a place that felt like home for me – she embraced me as if she had known me for much longer than she did. She was fascinating, and I loved hearing her stories – from her growing up in Oxford in Canterbury (South Island), to her parents/relatives from Greymouth and what their life was like at the turn of the 19th century, in the formative years of NZ as a colony.
I ‘laboured’ with both Ilona and Tadhg from the safety of Nana’s house, the nights before both were born!, and she was the first person that Daniel brought to see both the kids after they were born! She lived a great life – not always an easy life. She embodies a certain kiwi spirit for me – a hard working kiwi woman, who brought up her kids as a matriarch, had an external job through that time, was a constant and consistent bread winner for her family (her husband worked, but also was a bit flighty).
She was a strict Methodist until the church rejected her (around the time her husband died), when she turned against formal religions. She still lead a righteous life, always giving, compassionate yet with a wicked sense of happiness and adventure. So when I heard that she had died, I found myself being attracted to Zen places in the chaotic city of Bangkok, and thinking about her. She also loved flowers, and had an amazing garden of fruit, veggies and beautiful flowers, until she couldn’t manage it anymore with her wheelchair.
I guess we are all just passing through………..
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