The roughest of roads.

Recently Paul & I had the most amazing find.   It’s been about 7 weeks since Paul’s Mum passed suddenly, and Paul and his sister Lesley have been going through the house and sorting everything.  It’s a heart-wrenching job, especially when the passing was so unexpected.   Paul & Lesley are finding things they haven’t seen since their childhood.  It’s bittersweet I guess, as they find each thing that reminds them of their Mum.

I’ve not been very involved, not knowing really what is precious or sentimental, but I have been around once or twice.  The first time I went around Paul had just shown me a few precious things he had found when I looked around at the huge rubbish skip I was leaning on and there in the middle was the tiniest thing catching my eye.  I leaned over and picked it up.  A very small item, flat and incredibly fragile, I passed it to Paul and said “Oh my goodness, what were the chances that I would see this?  I have no idea where it has been for the past 75 years, it must have fallen out of a book or pile of rubbish that was thrown in the skip.”  We both expressed our amazement at finding it.  Once a possession of Paul’s Dad, where had it been all those years? What were the chances I’d find it, unbroken, after 75 years of being hidden and then thrown away?  

 

Paul’s Dad was an amazing man.  Real salt of the earth.  He lived his life in nature’s arms,  he had varied outdoor jobs such as working for the Conservation Society, introducing and protecting wildlife, and he spent years in the mid-50’s establishing the Milford track and building huts in the area.

He was also a writer.  His parents were blessed with lengthy letters full of details of his exploits in the South Island.  He wrote home every week and we now have huge folders of his writings – we are lucky.

A few of the many letters we have, written by Paul’s Dad in the 1950’s.  I sometimes wonder if these belong in a museum, outlining in detail the ‘old days’ of cutting and building the Milford Track in the South Island.

 

He was also an amazingly creative man.  He carved wood and bone - pieces like this fish-hook necklace have hours and hours of his clever hand-work invested in them, from the gentle weaving of the braid to the clasp that holds it closed, to the wooden carving itself.

 

Paul’s Dad, Peter, a framed photo in our home with one of the wooden pieces he carved. 

So notable was the quality of Peter’s work, that he was commissioned to hand craft a walking stick for Nelson Mandela when he visited in New Zealand in 1995.  The walking stick, crafted from stick to presentable piece, was gifted to Mr Mandela by the New Zealand government.  

I told you he was clever. 

Paul’s Dad passed away in 1999, a very short battle with cancer took his life, Paul was only 26 years old and we’d only just had our first baby 10 weeks prior.  Paul was devastated.  Paul is the baby in his family, youngest of 4 siblings by many years, he had been his Dad’s shadow growing up.  He is lucky to have uncountable memories of days, nights, weeks spent in the bush, hunting, fishing, learning, studying plant and wildlife and just hanging out as fathers and sons should.

 

We had a rough few years following Peter’s passing.  A first-born son with extra needs, losing Paul’s Dad, moving house several times, working a full time job plus building spec houses after work and at weekends to try and get ahead took it’s toll.

One weekend Paul came home from work and told me he’d had a visit from his Dad that day.  It was a hot day.  He’d been building a house on a new subdivision, not a tree for miles. Taking a break, he leaned on the bonnet of his ute, tipped his head back to take a drink from his water bottle.  As he tipped his head back he spotted a speck in the sky.  Barely noticeable at first, Paul watched the speck as it floated around and around and got bigger and bigger.  It took a few minutes before Paul realised it was a leaf and he continued to watch it as it got closer and closer and eventually dropped on the bonnet of the ute, right by where Paul was leaning.

 

There were no other leaves in the sky.  There were no trees close by.   The leaf wasn’t even typical of a tree common in the area.  Paul picked it up and brought it home, knowing it was a message from his Dad.  

“ I’m with you.  I know it’s tough.  You’ll be OK”.

 

That was the first time Paul felt like his Dad was still with him.  It’s happened a few times since, always at really trying times.  Always when we feel like things are too much and often when we feel like we are at the end of our tether.  The leaves always turn up in circumstances that can’t be explained easily and each time they are unexpected.   

 

A few of the leaves we have collected from Paul’s Dad over the years.

The past few months have been some of the most trying times I’ve had since those dark days of the late 90s.  The very sudden passing of Paul’s Mum while I was in California working.  The shock of being on a longhaul flight home when 12 hours earlier I was at a Mexican restaurant and everyone was fine.   Knowing my husband was at home having to  (with his sister) notify family, organise all the funeral arrangements and deal with our 3 children who had just lost their grandmother and I wasn’t there.  Getting home and dealing with family, a funeral and all that goes with it.  Shock setting in at the months of preparation for the work I was meant to attend in California going to waste.  The financial strain of having to leave that work and on top of all that, one of our kids becoming incredibly unwell.   Really unwell. 

And so it happened.   During a quiet moment a few weeks back, kids at school, Paul at work, I sat on my couch contemplating an incredibly emotionally taxing event the evening before.   I remember shaking my head to myself and wondering what on earth I was going to do next.   I literally shrugged my shoulders, thought to myself “I just don’t know what to do” and at that point I looked outside and I said out loud “Where is my freakin leaf now, Peter?”

And then it dawned on me.

That item that I had found in the skip?   That one that was so precious and so old and must have been hidden for years, only to turn up unscathed on the top of the skip for me to notice that day?

 

A leaf.  A leaf written on and preserved by a 7 year old Peter for me to find 75 years later at one of the toughest times of our lives.

 

He even signed it.

We get the message.  “ I’m with you. I know it’s tough. You’ll be OK”.

it’ll be OK.

laters.

Comments

[Louise Williams]

awesome stuff. :) hope the kiddo is well again too

[Lisa]

wow that's amazing Nic and to think something so fragile would still be in one piece, I definitely believe it was a sign too :) Take comfort in knowing that

[Debbie]

Wow i see what you meant but sitting down to read this - very powerful post Nic - I hope which ever kid has got so unwell is well now or coming right...Lots of love and hugs....

[Paula]

Love this story Nic - absolutely touched my heart today.
paula
xx

[Kathy Gielow]

Gives me goosebumps and brings tears to my eyes. There are always signs of our loved ones watching over us. I lost my husband to brain cancer 3 years ago, and yet he always lets me know that he is taking care of me. It doesn't make his loss easier, just comforting. I wish you peace.

[Kim Russell]

Oh Nic, this was just the perfect moment for me to wake up to this morning and read your blog. You are such a real inspiration to so many people and we love you, thankyou for sharing this, a bad start to my day has now become a better one for reading this xxx

[donna p]

Love the story nic kia kaha to you and Paul

[Deb]

Wow, what an amazing story and blessing. Hope things start looking up for you all and that your sick child is much better. Take care and thanks for sharing.

[Kim Thomas]

Wow, that is an inspiring story. Angels really do exist. God bless you, and your family.

[Louise]

That is beautiful, Nic xx. Hope the kiddo is ok now :) .

[Judy]

My thoughts are with you all at this incredibly tough time.I hope it helps your healing, that by sharing, others are able to show they care.Finding the leaf is amazing!

[Lisa Henderson]

You brought me to tears today. But I hope you continue to find comfort and that your child gets well.

[Martha Richardson]

What a truly amazing story...there are no coincidences in life so this truly was meant to be found in the way that you did. Find comfort in this ;)

[Dayna Howard]

I cried reading that Nic. How beautiful xxx

[Lynda Manning]

Hugs for the Howards.xox

[Penny]

Awesome encouraging post. Grace and peace to your family.

When you have the time, mind and heart space to contemplate it and discuss with the family, I recommend sharing the photos and letters with an institution like the National Library. The glimpse into that era and activities would be a real contribution to their collection and to future researchers into NZ history. (http://natlib.govt.nz/collections/donations).

[Lindsey March]

Lump in throat now. I hope this year gets better and better for you guys.

[Janelle Jones]

(Tears falling down face). Thank you so much for sharing this personal story. You are amazing Nic and you impart so much to so many people in so many ways. This reminds us all to take the time to listen and look....I am so glad you had that moment and you will no doubt continue to have more. We are never alone....bless you heaps.

[Jo Baker]

Sorry to hear that times have been so tough recently Nic and hope that whichever of the kids are sick they are on the road to a very quick recovery. What a wonderful sign from your father in law to remind you that he is always looking over you and how fabulous that you are tuned in enough to see these wonderful reminders.

Take care of you and the family through this time and remember that it takes some rain to make rainbows :)

[Rachel]

Amazing post Nic and I hope your child is well on the road to recovery. Gives ya goosebumps. Hugs to you all