Lester and Popa
On Christmas Eve morning, we had a phone call telling us a dear family friend, Lester Huka, had been Promoted to Glory (the Army term for 'passed away'.) Even though he hasn't been in very good health these past few months, it seems rather unbelievable to me. Lester has been such a great mate to Mum and Dad in many hard times. I really felt for Mum in particular - the third death in the past 6 months of a close family member or friend.
Together with Lenny, Lester did the hangi for my 21st and knew the Bible so incredibly well. He defended me to Mum when I got my hair braided (much to her initial disgust).
Together with Lenny, Lester did the hangi for my 21st and knew the Bible so incredibly well. He defended me to Mum when I got my hair braided (much to her initial disgust).
It does seem weird being back in Hamilton for so long now and not seeing Lester. But I take peace at knowing he is now with Jesus.
So anyway then on Christmas Eve, Mum and Dad went over to Lester's daughter's house in Tauranga to see him, and took Popa. (Lester had a lot of respect for Nana and Popa, which they had also for him).
They arrived back in Hamilton at midnight and Mum decided it would be easier for Popa to stay at our house the night rather than drop him off at the rest home and pick him up again in the early morning. Which in theory sounds great, except that Popa didn't listen to Mum when she told him to wait and he tried to climb the steps oot our house by himself. Not a good idea for a 92-year-old with a cane and a bad sense a balance.
Thus he fell. Face down into the gravel.
After much commotion, we got him inside, debating hotly as to whether or not to take him to the emergency room. I also got hassled for my first aid skills. In the end, Mum decided to take him to the hospital because "it wouldn't be busy". Dad agreed, after all it wouldn't be busy on Christmas Eve at nearly 1am. I don't know what planet they have lived on. Not busy on Christmas Eve night at a major hospital in the city? Surprisingly (or not!) Mum texted to say how busy it was not long after they arrived.
Popa ended up with his arm in a sling, with a suspected dislocated shoulder, a stitch in his forehead and cutes and bruises everywhere else. So he is a very sore old man. (And Mum confessed that the nurses were impressed with my first aid!)
Thus, it was a crazy Christmas Day. It didn't feel like Christmas leading up to it, what with Commissioning, packing and cleaning, and then on Christmas morning, with half the family at the hospital and only me and Matt cooking our trad Christmas bfast and going to the Army by ourselves, it still didn't feel like Christmas til a lot later in the day.
In the words of Jenny: "Drama, drama, drama!"
So anyway then on Christmas Eve, Mum and Dad went over to Lester's daughter's house in Tauranga to see him, and took Popa. (Lester had a lot of respect for Nana and Popa, which they had also for him).
They arrived back in Hamilton at midnight and Mum decided it would be easier for Popa to stay at our house the night rather than drop him off at the rest home and pick him up again in the early morning. Which in theory sounds great, except that Popa didn't listen to Mum when she told him to wait and he tried to climb the steps oot our house by himself. Not a good idea for a 92-year-old with a cane and a bad sense a balance.
Thus he fell. Face down into the gravel.
After much commotion, we got him inside, debating hotly as to whether or not to take him to the emergency room. I also got hassled for my first aid skills. In the end, Mum decided to take him to the hospital because "it wouldn't be busy". Dad agreed, after all it wouldn't be busy on Christmas Eve at nearly 1am. I don't know what planet they have lived on. Not busy on Christmas Eve night at a major hospital in the city? Surprisingly (or not!) Mum texted to say how busy it was not long after they arrived.
Popa ended up with his arm in a sling, with a suspected dislocated shoulder, a stitch in his forehead and cutes and bruises everywhere else. So he is a very sore old man. (And Mum confessed that the nurses were impressed with my first aid!)
Thus, it was a crazy Christmas Day. It didn't feel like Christmas leading up to it, what with Commissioning, packing and cleaning, and then on Christmas morning, with half the family at the hospital and only me and Matt cooking our trad Christmas bfast and going to the Army by ourselves, it still didn't feel like Christmas til a lot later in the day.
In the words of Jenny: "Drama, drama, drama!"
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