When I woke up from the inadvertent nap on Robin's sofa Melissa let me know they had dropped the program off at the printers and they would have the booklets printed and stapled by the next morning (Tuesday). She also had a printer's proof that she showed me and I thought it looked wonderful given the short amount of time they had to prepare and the obvious challenge with compiling a handout for your brother's funeral. I then walked out to the front yard and phoned Mitzi to get a report on Tanner's birthday party. She was happy to tell me they had a great time at the amusement park and that Shawn had done an incredible job arranging everything. She said that Candi's home was spotless, that Shawn had filled it with balloons, ordered a very nice cake which he personally assisted the cake maker with decorating and that in addition to the trip to Boomers they had the cake and ice cream at a Farrell's ice cream parlor. In spite of his mother being 8000 miles away Tanner had a memorable birthday with his dad, sister, grandmother, aunt, uncle and cousins. I was happy to hear the report.
I made and received phone calls and emails from a number of family members in America keeping everyone as up to date as I could with the details. Candi and I tried our best to keep Geoff's sister, Carri, who lives with her husband and 2 children in San Diego as current as possible. Carri appreciated our effort. I found that most everyone had no words that could explain their true emotion about the situation. The conversations were typically awkward exchanges when trying to communicate with my parents or siblings or daughter about what we were dealing with in Sydney. They wanted to say words that would take away my pain and show their love and support and I wanted badly to be able to express to them my appreciation for that love and support. It's said there are nearly 1 million words in the English language but among those apparently the correct ones to convey the feelings of having your son, grandson, nephew, brother stolen from your grasp have not been coined.
Sister Mary from St. Ursula's school came calling soon after Melissa returned from the printer. She spent some time with Robin and Melissa discussing the expectations for Wednesday and the mechanics of the audio system at the church. She assured us that she would be present at the service and available for any unexpected challenges that may arise. Sister Mary has the gift of making everyone around her feel a little calmer, a little more at peace and a little more confident about the journey we were all about to embark upon. For that I was most grateful.
After we walked Sister Mary to her car Robin advised me that it was time for us to head over to St. George Medical Center for our meeting with Dr. Choi. She grabbed her purse and keys from the house and we headed over to the hospital in Kogarah in her still damaged sedan with the vibration noise as loud as ever. It was late afternoon and parking, as everywhere in Sydney, was at a premium. After locating a relatively close by spot on the street, then walking to the clinic of Dr. Harvey I discussed with Robin what I thought our goal for this meeting ought to be. We were there to gather information; I didn't want to come across as accusatory or attempting to fix blame; I wanted the physician to be as open and honest about what he thought happened to Geoff as possible.
We walked up to the reception area for the clinic and identified ourselves. The receptionist apparently had been anticipating our arrival as she immediately ushered us into an office just off the lobby. Within minutes Dr. Choi entered the office and introduced himself. He appeared to be in his 30's or perhaps early 40's. His name would indicate that he was Asian as would his appearance but if you spoke with him only by telephone you would assume he was a blue eyed blond Australian based on his speech patterns and diction. I concluded he was born and raised in Australia. He first explained to us that Dr. Harvey, the staff specialist in hematology for St. George Hospital, was out of the country attending a symposium; that he had left on 2 October. Dr. Choi explained that he was a hematology fellow currently assigned to Dr. Harvey, that he could be reassigned at any time but that we should feel free to follow up with he or Dr. Harvey for any future issues, either of them would be happy to help us. Dr. Harvey had been primarily responsible for Geoff's treatment for Hodgkin Lymphoma since he was diagnosed in the last part of 2007.
Dr. Choi then took a seat and began by expressing his personal sorrow and dismay at Geoffrey's passing and that he had been in contact with Dr. Harvey by telephone and email and that Dr. Harvey was equally distressed. He then spent the next 15 minutes or so relating the details of Geoff's case from his perspective without referring to any notes, files or computers. I took notice of this because it was obvious to me that he had spent a good amount of time preparing for our visit and his presentation came across as honest and open. Perhaps my expectation was that he would be guarded in his comments so as not to accept any responsibility for events that led to Geoff's death but the reality was the opposite. He explained that when he saw Geoff on 29 October along with Dr. Harvey and reviewed the results of his blood test they didn't believe anything particularly troubling was occurring. Although they suspected, based on his symptoms, that Geoff had been struck with Glandular Fever (Infectious Mononucleosis) the blood test did not support a positive exposure to the EBV virus that would necessarily be present so they decided to repeat the test the following day. At the same time, they noticed that Geoff had a "presenting" lymph node under one side of his jaw. Swollen lymph nodes are consistent with Glandular Fever, he explained, but that they tend to be symmetrical or mirrored on opposite sides of the body and this singular enlarged lymph node was somewhat troubling as it did not match the typical Glandular Fever symptoms. Although it was somewhat premature in the normal Hodgkin Lymphoma follow up they ordered a CT scan for the following day as well. He went on to explain that there was some reluctance to have Geoff undergo the CT scan due to the extreme amount of radiation he had been exposed to over the last 3 years from previous scans and therapy. Nonetheless, they ordered the CT and Geoff showed up the following day for the 2 tests.
The follow up blood test performed on 30 October revealed a positive exposure to EBV in contrast with the test from the previous day. Dr. Choi explained this was not uncommon and was consistent with a recent infection, that the test was focused on the anti-bodies that one's system produces and that is takes some time for those anti-bodies to develop in a measurable volume. The results of the CT Scan revealed some more interesting findings: Geoff had enlarged lymph nodes throughout the scanned areas, from his groin to his sinuses. Dr. Choi explained that this was still consistent with Glandular Fever and that the size of the lymph nodes affected were not overly large and save for the one presenting node in his neck seemed to be symmetrical. In spite of Geoff's history of Hodgkin Lymphoma the decision was made that they were most likely dealing with Glandular Fever and the protocol for treatment was bed rest, fluids and over the counter medication to treat fever.
Dr. Choi continued by explaining that the responsibility for determining the the causation for Geoff's death now lay with the Coroner. He also said he and Dr. Harvey did not believe that the initial findings, the conclusion that the primary reason for Geoff's demise was Lymphoma was incorrect and that after all of the analysis and reviews were completed they were more of the belief that we would find that Geoff died from an overwhelming infection that his compromised immune system was unable to defend against. He further explained that he had an acquaintance in the coroner's office and was hoping to use that relationship to obtain information more quickly than the protracted time period we were told of 8 to 12 months for the results of the examinations. He did acknowledge that it was probable, in retrospect, the Lymphoma had returned but that it had not reached a stage where the enlarged lymph nodes, in and of themselves, were life threatening.
Because I had my own challenge with Lymphoma I had some questions that I needed to ask. I knew that one of the markers for determining the severity of lymphoma involvement is the size of the largest affected nodes I specifically asked Dr. Choi to explain what the retrospective review of the CT scan indicated. He quickly responded by stating that Geoff had no enlarged lymph nodes that measured over 2 cm, not particularly large depending upon the location of those involved nodes. I then asked Dr. Choi what he would have done differently given that he knew then what he knows now. Without hesitation he responded that he doesn't believe they would have done anything differently, that EBV infection does not react well to antibiotics and that in many cases the antibiotics exacerbate the symptoms. He restated how shocked both he and Dr. Harvey were that Geoff's illness escalated so quickly.
Before we left the office Dr. Choi took my yellow legal pad on which I had been taking notes and wrote his contact information, including his personal mobile telephone number and email address. He then told us he would communicate with us whenever there was meaningful information to report and at a minimum every 30 days until the coroner issued his report. He welcomed us to contact him at any time we had questions or a need to discuss any of the information we had previously been provided.
Robin and I exited the office in silence and walked toward her car absorbing all the information we had been provided. As she engaged the starter she looked over at me and asked if I would like to go for a walk. She suggested we go to a place where she and Geoff used to walk while he was undergoing his treatment in 2008. I welcomed the idea and she guided her vehicle into the late afternoon traffic.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Start of a Busy Monday
As I read the obituary for at least the 7th time it dawned on me that I left out my own 6 brothers and sisters and their children completely. Geoff had 6 additional aunts, 4 uncles and 7 cousins living in Texas and New York. I guess in my effort to make sure I included all the Australian relatives I completely zoned out on my own siblings living in America. I knew they would understand but I felt terrible and embarrassed about it when I first realized that I had forgotten to include them. I then heard Candi's bedroom door open. As she sleepily, yet carefully, made her way down the stairs she cried out with obvious disappointment "They didn't call me!" We examined the new mobile phone she was clutching in her hand and discovered that the power was off. We surmised that she must have turned the phone off inadvertently when she retired the previous night as there was plenty of battery power available. While I prepared her coffee she tried calling Shawn's cell phone. We were sure the birthday celebration was already in full swing. Shawn answered the phone amidst the din of scores of patrons enjoying themselves at "Boomers". He explained they had rung Candi numerous times only to go directly into the voice mail system but didn't leave a message. Candi asked him to bring Tanner to the telephone so she could wish him a Happy Birthday. Tanner obligingly grabbed the phone and spent precious few moments indulging his mother in her wishes for his special day but was, no doubt, distracted by the go-karts that needed to be driven and the balls that needed swatting in the batting cages. She reluctantly said goodbye when it was obvious he could contain his need for participation in the various activities no longer. Candi was able to take solace in her belief that, although Tanner was badly missing her, at least he was able to enjoy himself in spite of her absence.
Candi fixed scrambled eggs for breakfast and we were dressed and ready when Robin picked us up a little after 9:00. On the ride back to Bexley North she told us that we were to meet with Father Xavier Barry in the early afternoon as he had been recommended as a suitable replacement for the priest we met with on Saturday. Father Barry was affiliated with the Kogarah Marist College where Geoff had attended during school years 11 and 12. A little while after we pulled into the driveway and joined Jo and Melissa inside the house the doorbell was rung by a repairman wanting to take a look at the garage doors. I continued to sort through the photos of Geoff with Candi that we needed for the slide show ; Melissa and Jo were working feverishly on readying the booklet for the service so as to be able to review the content with Father Barry when he arrived. The living/dining area of Robin and Mag's home took on the appearance of a very busy office with the 2 MacBooks and printer being shared by all of us. There were a number of phone calls confirming details of the next couple of days, including two from Linda of WN Bull Funerals.
I spoke with Linda and she confirmed that we would be able to have a viewing of Geoff at 10:00 a.m. the next day at their facility in Newtown for anyone that wanted to attend. For whatever reason, Linda thought it would be interesting for me to know that, although she had been raised Catholic, she had converted to Buddhism at some point in the past. What little I knew about Buddhism included the concept of "rebirth" and that rebirth could take on any number of forms. I was thinking, perhaps, she was trying to prepare me for the viewing the next day or maybe give me something to hold on to regarding Geoff's death. I mentioned what I thought was an odd conversation with the agent from WN Bull to Robin. She then told me a story about a window that was over her kitchen sink that seemed to have a mind of its own and would open or shut randomly for no apparent reason. She laughed as she told me that she and Geoff used to make a little joke when it happened, that it was "J.K." talking to them (J.K. was Robin's deceased father). She then said she guessed from now on it would be Geoff manipulating the window.
A while after the first phone call from Linda I received another. She was telling me that Geoff had a 2 or 3 day growth of his beard and wanted to know should she give him a shave. I didn't respond to her immediately and let her know I would call back after I had spoken to Robin and Jo. I wasn't sure if maybe the whiskers were there for aesthetic reasons or it was just a case of him not feeling well those last couple of days and he didn't get around to shaving. In any case, I thought it was appropriate to listen to Robin and Jo's point of view. After consulting with them I phoned Linda back to let her know that she should go ahead and give him a shave. After I hung up the phone I remembered that I had wanted to speak with Jo about her comments at the meeting with the priest on Saturday relative to her view that Geoff had a premonition about his death.
I asked Jo to step outside the front door and I put my hands on her shoulders and looked her right in her huge brown eyes. I told her I could not stop thinking about her response to the priest's question whether or not she thought Geoff knew he was going to die. I told her it was important for me to understand why she felt that way, that I would not judge her for her comment or now her explanation, I just wanted to know. She explained to me that she had been visiting Geoff that Saturday evening before he died and that when she felt like he was getting tired, was getting ready to leave and they had a little routine they would perform when parting that did not include saying "good bye" as she didn't like the term. I never inquired about the routine itself. On this particular evening, after their personal ritual she started to walk out of his room and he called her back. She said he didn't say anything but that he held her hand for a few moments and when he let go she had the sense that she may never see him again, perhaps a result of unspoken communication that only exists between lovers. Now, she said, she was sorry she didn't go back to the house in Bexley North after that evening but she thought she was doing what Geoff wanted her to do. I hugged Jo and thanked her for once again being so honest and open with me.
Father Xavier Barry arrived right on time just after lunch. He was attired as one might expect an Irish Catholic priest to be on a Monday afternoon, starched white shirt, tie and all. I assumed him to be in his early 70's but in contrast to his associate he was as sharp as a tack and very pleasant. We spent a few minutes discussing the common ground he had with Geoff and some of Geoff's teachers and classmates at Kogarah Marist College. After we set the table with our getting to know you conversation, Melissa presented Father with the outline of the program and discussed the script. We all knew how important music was to Geoff and how important it was to all of us to get it into the service in a respectful way but with which Geoff would have approved. We proposed to open the service with a song that had special importance to Joanne, "Heartbeats" by Jose Gonzales (listen here Listen to Heartbeats ) as it had special meaning to Jo in her relationship with Geoff. Father Barry agreed with Melissa and Jo on using this song to open the service. There was some give and take with the balance of the outline; Father Barry made suggestions of some alternate prayers and the timing of certain components but, for the most part, he agreed with the program that Melissa and Jo had slaved over for the past few days. However, there was one particular part of the service with which Father was disagreeing about its appropriateness, the song that the girls had selected to close the service, "Burial" by Miike Snow (listen here Listen to Burial ).
After Geoff died Melissa and Jo cued up the music on his laptop; of its own accord this song started to play. Melissa and Jo had a sense that Geoff had left it for them to find in just this way and that it was his wish that it be used. I was sitting directly across the table from Father Barry as he read the lyrics for the song that were to be printed in the booklet. Only I could see him ever so subtly shaking his head back and forth and mouthing the words "no, no, no". He slid his glasses to the end of his nose and looked over to Melissa and asked her if it was possible to find a song that was more appropriate. I could see the tears start to well up in Melissa's eyes as she was speechless. Father lost eye contact with Melissa and turned back to look across the table at me, most probably looking for my support in his evaluation, and I'm sure as he caught my gaze he had the sense of running into a charging rhinoceros ready to take on anyone and everyone in its path in order to protect his family. His eyes dropped to his hands but only for a moment. He then looked up and said "I suppose we could leave it in, but in another place." We quickly ascertained that what would make Father Barry more comfortable would be for him to give his final blessing; then we would have the song play as the participants left the church, following the pallbearers and Geoff. Once we were in agreement on that procedure Father excused himself after restating a few more of the details for Wednesday and finishing his slice of cake and cup of tea that Robin had served.
Now that Melissa and Jo had a final version of the document and spent a few more minutes making sure of the layout and the use of the appropriate font (hoping Geoff would be pleased with the selection) they rushed off to a local quick printer to have the booklets made. We were thinking that 60 copies would be enough based on the list we prepared a few days earlier but decided to have 100 printed, just in case, as the incremental cost was minimal. Robin decided to go along with them for the ride and reminded me that I would be alone in the house with the garage door repairman in the back. Since his only access to the back of the garage was through the living room (due to the damage to the garage's front door from the crash) he would no doubt be coming through when he was finished. I sat down on the sofa and started listening to the music that was already playing on the stereo as I allowed my head to tilt back and closed my eyes. The next thing I remembered was Melissa coming into the house after their trip to the printer. The repairman was long gone.
Candi fixed scrambled eggs for breakfast and we were dressed and ready when Robin picked us up a little after 9:00. On the ride back to Bexley North she told us that we were to meet with Father Xavier Barry in the early afternoon as he had been recommended as a suitable replacement for the priest we met with on Saturday. Father Barry was affiliated with the Kogarah Marist College where Geoff had attended during school years 11 and 12. A little while after we pulled into the driveway and joined Jo and Melissa inside the house the doorbell was rung by a repairman wanting to take a look at the garage doors. I continued to sort through the photos of Geoff with Candi that we needed for the slide show ; Melissa and Jo were working feverishly on readying the booklet for the service so as to be able to review the content with Father Barry when he arrived. The living/dining area of Robin and Mag's home took on the appearance of a very busy office with the 2 MacBooks and printer being shared by all of us. There were a number of phone calls confirming details of the next couple of days, including two from Linda of WN Bull Funerals.
I spoke with Linda and she confirmed that we would be able to have a viewing of Geoff at 10:00 a.m. the next day at their facility in Newtown for anyone that wanted to attend. For whatever reason, Linda thought it would be interesting for me to know that, although she had been raised Catholic, she had converted to Buddhism at some point in the past. What little I knew about Buddhism included the concept of "rebirth" and that rebirth could take on any number of forms. I was thinking, perhaps, she was trying to prepare me for the viewing the next day or maybe give me something to hold on to regarding Geoff's death. I mentioned what I thought was an odd conversation with the agent from WN Bull to Robin. She then told me a story about a window that was over her kitchen sink that seemed to have a mind of its own and would open or shut randomly for no apparent reason. She laughed as she told me that she and Geoff used to make a little joke when it happened, that it was "J.K." talking to them (J.K. was Robin's deceased father). She then said she guessed from now on it would be Geoff manipulating the window.
A while after the first phone call from Linda I received another. She was telling me that Geoff had a 2 or 3 day growth of his beard and wanted to know should she give him a shave. I didn't respond to her immediately and let her know I would call back after I had spoken to Robin and Jo. I wasn't sure if maybe the whiskers were there for aesthetic reasons or it was just a case of him not feeling well those last couple of days and he didn't get around to shaving. In any case, I thought it was appropriate to listen to Robin and Jo's point of view. After consulting with them I phoned Linda back to let her know that she should go ahead and give him a shave. After I hung up the phone I remembered that I had wanted to speak with Jo about her comments at the meeting with the priest on Saturday relative to her view that Geoff had a premonition about his death.
I asked Jo to step outside the front door and I put my hands on her shoulders and looked her right in her huge brown eyes. I told her I could not stop thinking about her response to the priest's question whether or not she thought Geoff knew he was going to die. I told her it was important for me to understand why she felt that way, that I would not judge her for her comment or now her explanation, I just wanted to know. She explained to me that she had been visiting Geoff that Saturday evening before he died and that when she felt like he was getting tired, was getting ready to leave and they had a little routine they would perform when parting that did not include saying "good bye" as she didn't like the term. I never inquired about the routine itself. On this particular evening, after their personal ritual she started to walk out of his room and he called her back. She said he didn't say anything but that he held her hand for a few moments and when he let go she had the sense that she may never see him again, perhaps a result of unspoken communication that only exists between lovers. Now, she said, she was sorry she didn't go back to the house in Bexley North after that evening but she thought she was doing what Geoff wanted her to do. I hugged Jo and thanked her for once again being so honest and open with me.
Father Xavier Barry arrived right on time just after lunch. He was attired as one might expect an Irish Catholic priest to be on a Monday afternoon, starched white shirt, tie and all. I assumed him to be in his early 70's but in contrast to his associate he was as sharp as a tack and very pleasant. We spent a few minutes discussing the common ground he had with Geoff and some of Geoff's teachers and classmates at Kogarah Marist College. After we set the table with our getting to know you conversation, Melissa presented Father with the outline of the program and discussed the script. We all knew how important music was to Geoff and how important it was to all of us to get it into the service in a respectful way but with which Geoff would have approved. We proposed to open the service with a song that had special importance to Joanne, "Heartbeats" by Jose Gonzales (listen here Listen to Heartbeats ) as it had special meaning to Jo in her relationship with Geoff. Father Barry agreed with Melissa and Jo on using this song to open the service. There was some give and take with the balance of the outline; Father Barry made suggestions of some alternate prayers and the timing of certain components but, for the most part, he agreed with the program that Melissa and Jo had slaved over for the past few days. However, there was one particular part of the service with which Father was disagreeing about its appropriateness, the song that the girls had selected to close the service, "Burial" by Miike Snow (listen here Listen to Burial ).
After Geoff died Melissa and Jo cued up the music on his laptop; of its own accord this song started to play. Melissa and Jo had a sense that Geoff had left it for them to find in just this way and that it was his wish that it be used. I was sitting directly across the table from Father Barry as he read the lyrics for the song that were to be printed in the booklet. Only I could see him ever so subtly shaking his head back and forth and mouthing the words "no, no, no". He slid his glasses to the end of his nose and looked over to Melissa and asked her if it was possible to find a song that was more appropriate. I could see the tears start to well up in Melissa's eyes as she was speechless. Father lost eye contact with Melissa and turned back to look across the table at me, most probably looking for my support in his evaluation, and I'm sure as he caught my gaze he had the sense of running into a charging rhinoceros ready to take on anyone and everyone in its path in order to protect his family. His eyes dropped to his hands but only for a moment. He then looked up and said "I suppose we could leave it in, but in another place." We quickly ascertained that what would make Father Barry more comfortable would be for him to give his final blessing; then we would have the song play as the participants left the church, following the pallbearers and Geoff. Once we were in agreement on that procedure Father excused himself after restating a few more of the details for Wednesday and finishing his slice of cake and cup of tea that Robin had served.
Now that Melissa and Jo had a final version of the document and spent a few more minutes making sure of the layout and the use of the appropriate font (hoping Geoff would be pleased with the selection) they rushed off to a local quick printer to have the booklets made. We were thinking that 60 copies would be enough based on the list we prepared a few days earlier but decided to have 100 printed, just in case, as the incremental cost was minimal. Robin decided to go along with them for the ride and reminded me that I would be alone in the house with the garage door repairman in the back. Since his only access to the back of the garage was through the living room (due to the damage to the garage's front door from the crash) he would no doubt be coming through when he was finished. I sat down on the sofa and started listening to the music that was already playing on the stereo as I allowed my head to tilt back and closed my eyes. The next thing I remembered was Melissa coming into the house after their trip to the printer. The repairman was long gone.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Sydney Morning Herald 11 October, 2010
Geoffrey Loe
LOE, Geoffrey John
Passed away in Kogarah,
October 6, 2010.
Aged 26
Geoffrey was creative in both his career and leisure time.
"My hands are instruments, not weapons!" he once exclaimed.
As a graphic designer with Zlata Creative in North Sydney he
made a living doing what he loved. He also enjoyed
entertaining his friends, family and paying clients as a DJ.
Much loved son of Robin Louise Loe (Stanley) of Bexley North
and Craig Loe of Cathedral City, California. Geoffrey also leaves
his beloved sisters Melissa Loe, Candace Duke (Loe) and Carri
Burns (Loe); his grandparents Shirley Stanley of Kingsgrove
and Julian and Jo Ann Loe of Wimberley, Texas; uncles Luke
Stanley and Michael Stanley; aunts Marguerite Stanley,
Jeannette Stanley and Anita Stanley; cousins Layla Stanley
and Luke-Jon Stanley; nieces Sydney Duke and Emily Burns;
nephews Tanner Duke and Davis Burns along with
numerous other extended family and many friends. He was
pre-deceased by his grandfather John Kevin Stanley. Geoffrey
also leaves his girlfriend Joanne Khatib.
Geoffrey will be dearly missed by all who
knew and naturally loved him.
Mass of Christian Burial for
GEOFFREY JOHN LOE
will be offered in
Our Lady of Fatima Church,
Shaw St., Kingsgrove
on Wednesday (October 13,
2010), commencing at 1:30 pm.
In lieu of flowers, Geoffrey's
family requests that donations be made to Lymphoma research
www.leukaemia.org.au
Private Cremation
Passed away in Kogarah,
October 6, 2010.
Aged 26
Geoffrey was creative in both his career and leisure time.
"My hands are instruments, not weapons!" he once exclaimed.
As a graphic designer with Zlata Creative in North Sydney he
made a living doing what he loved. He also enjoyed
entertaining his friends, family and paying clients as a DJ.
Much loved son of Robin Louise Loe (Stanley) of Bexley North
and Craig Loe of Cathedral City, California. Geoffrey also leaves
his beloved sisters Melissa Loe, Candace Duke (Loe) and Carri
Burns (Loe); his grandparents Shirley Stanley of Kingsgrove
and Julian and Jo Ann Loe of Wimberley, Texas; uncles Luke
Stanley and Michael Stanley; aunts Marguerite Stanley,
Jeannette Stanley and Anita Stanley; cousins Layla Stanley
and Luke-Jon Stanley; nieces Sydney Duke and Emily Burns;
nephews Tanner Duke and Davis Burns along with
numerous other extended family and many friends. He was
pre-deceased by his grandfather John Kevin Stanley. Geoffrey
also leaves his girlfriend Joanne Khatib.
Geoffrey will be dearly missed by all who
knew and naturally loved him.
Mass of Christian Burial for
GEOFFREY JOHN LOE
will be offered in
Our Lady of Fatima Church,
Shaw St., Kingsgrove
on Wednesday (October 13,
2010), commencing at 1:30 pm.
In lieu of flowers, Geoffrey's
family requests that donations be made to Lymphoma research
www.leukaemia.org.au
Private Cremation
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Into The New Week
Sunday night in Darlinghurst proved to be quite different from the weekend and those nights and mornings leading up to it. There was a marked contrast in the street noise level and after a pre-bedtime glass of wine or perhaps two and a little TV watching with Candi I retired to my room after my self-prescribed 1 Advil PM. Candi lent me a book she purchased at Vinnie's earlier in the day, "7th Heaven" by James Patterson. I picked it up and found it to be a mindless light novel just at the limit of my concentration, about all I could handle. As I read a couple of the very short chapters and felt myself nodding off, I placed the book on the nightstand, appropriately rumpled up the duvet and pillows and endeavored to get some sleep. I had given the newly purchased mobile phone to Candi for the night as she had instructed Shawn to phone her, no matter the time, when Tanner awoke for his 7th birthday. Although she couldn't be there, she at least wanted to be able to sing "Happy Birthday" to him when his day began because he was surely missing her on this, his biggest day of the year. If Tanner rose at 8 a.m. in California that would be 2 a.m. Sydney time. She wouldn't mind, she told me, she was used to odd sleeping hours in any event due to her job as a police officer and the reality of shift work.
While I was aware of the occasional car door slamming on the street below my window and the off/on rain drops on the metal roof I achieved at least a few hours of dreamless sleep. Since I had given up my new phone for the night, I switched on my U.S. based android phone, just for the clock, so I could evaluate when it was an acceptable time to leave my bed. It must have been the 3rd or 4th time I checked the phone's display that I decided, since it was now past 3:30 a.m., I would give myself permission to head downstairs to begin my morning routine. It struck me that I must have achieved some level of sleep as I had no recollection of hearing Candi speaking with Shawn and Tanner in the middle of the night. I remembered that Geoff's obituary would be in the Sydney Morning Herald that day and made a mental note to make sure I picked up some copies of the paper when I went out for my sunrise stroll around the neighborhood. Since I knew that Mitzi was in Orange County and would be attending Tanner's birthday party at the Boomer's amusement park I had planned to catch up with her later in the day so she could fill me in on the details.
While sipping my coffee I tried to mentally catalog all the things we needed to handle this day. I had not had an opportunity to speak with Jo yet about her sense that Geoff "knew"; I wanted to have that conversation the next time I saw her. We were to be directed to a different priest that would conduct Geoff's service and would want to meet with him as soon as we could. Melissa and Jo had been working on the booklet for distribution at the service and the printing of that piece needed to be arranged. Robin and I were to meet with Geoff's hematologist that afternoon and I rehearsed the questions for which I wanted answers. There was a slide presentation that was to be shown at the wake following the service that Robin's neighbor, Stephen, was preparing and he still needed our input to finish that off. In stark contrast to our leisurely Sunday in the countryside at Luke's, Monday was setting up to be a quite busy day.
When I figured I could leave the townhouse so as to arrive at the nearby convenience store for their 6 a.m. opening I stepped out onto Taylor Street. Opposite the activity of the past few mornings the street was bustling with residents attired in work clothing making their way to their vehicles, buses or the train station waiting to deliver them to their places of employment. Most of the men were dressed in business suits, the women had the look of occupants of professional offices. It struck me that the throngs that inhabited Darlinghurst on weekend nights and early mornings was imported from other suburbs around Sydney. The locals all looked to be far too professional and serious to be involved in the shenanigans I could only imagine ocurred behind the neon lighted doorways of the business district.
I jaywalked across Flinders to the Coles Express store and grabbed 4 copies of the Sydney Morning Herald. I tucked them under my arm after I paid $6 for the privilege and declined the clerk's suggestion that I purchase gum or candy to go along with the papers. The paper is quite large and unwieldy compared to those we are used to in California so I decided to forgo looking for the announcement until I was back inside the unit. I dodged the now busy vehicle traffic mirroring my earlier steps and reentered the townhouse. I sat down at the dining room table with one copy of the voluminous Monday morning edition of the Sydney Morning Herald and began to search for the vital statistics announcements.
I spread the paper out over the dining room table. The Sydney Morning Herald is almost twice as wide as an American paper and on this day was all in one section. I believe its printed this way to make it easier to read on the train but I could have conjured that up in my mind. When holding the newspaper in its fully open position it nearly takes the extension of ones arms to their full limit. All the news that was fit to print on 11 October, 2010 fit into 22 pages of The Sydney Morning Herald. On the front page was a story about the decision to conduct a 4th Coronial Inquest into the death of Azaria Chamberlain. Azaria Chamberlain was a 9 1/2 week old baby that her parents say was taken by dingoes while camping in the Northern Territories in 1980. Here we are, 30 years later, and its still front page news. When I first started travelling to Australia about the same time she disappeared it was in the headlines then and this story was confirming that in the 30 years since she first went missing they haven't yet been able to figure it out. I started flipping through the pages and came across an article about the inordinate number of weddings that occurred in New South Wales the previous day, 10/10/10, and that many of the wedded couples were Chinese due to a cultural belief that repeating numbers bring good luck. Finally, I found the section of the newspaper that was to contain the notification. After the stories about the Aussie dollar being on par with the U.S. currency, the son of the North Korean dictator being seen in public, the publisher of Playboy magazine in Indonesia being imprisoned for publishing indiscretions, Facebook changing the way information is disseminated; After the Entertainment section touting current theatrical performances, concerts and films; After the Classified advertisements and a page devoted to educational issues; Immediately after a section that was an entire page requesting bids and proposals for various government contracts I found the section on page 19 entitled PERSONAL NOTICES with the sub-heading Death & Funerals. There, in alphabetical order, were the printed words no parent was ever meant to read.
While I was aware of the occasional car door slamming on the street below my window and the off/on rain drops on the metal roof I achieved at least a few hours of dreamless sleep. Since I had given up my new phone for the night, I switched on my U.S. based android phone, just for the clock, so I could evaluate when it was an acceptable time to leave my bed. It must have been the 3rd or 4th time I checked the phone's display that I decided, since it was now past 3:30 a.m., I would give myself permission to head downstairs to begin my morning routine. It struck me that I must have achieved some level of sleep as I had no recollection of hearing Candi speaking with Shawn and Tanner in the middle of the night. I remembered that Geoff's obituary would be in the Sydney Morning Herald that day and made a mental note to make sure I picked up some copies of the paper when I went out for my sunrise stroll around the neighborhood. Since I knew that Mitzi was in Orange County and would be attending Tanner's birthday party at the Boomer's amusement park I had planned to catch up with her later in the day so she could fill me in on the details.
While sipping my coffee I tried to mentally catalog all the things we needed to handle this day. I had not had an opportunity to speak with Jo yet about her sense that Geoff "knew"; I wanted to have that conversation the next time I saw her. We were to be directed to a different priest that would conduct Geoff's service and would want to meet with him as soon as we could. Melissa and Jo had been working on the booklet for distribution at the service and the printing of that piece needed to be arranged. Robin and I were to meet with Geoff's hematologist that afternoon and I rehearsed the questions for which I wanted answers. There was a slide presentation that was to be shown at the wake following the service that Robin's neighbor, Stephen, was preparing and he still needed our input to finish that off. In stark contrast to our leisurely Sunday in the countryside at Luke's, Monday was setting up to be a quite busy day.
When I figured I could leave the townhouse so as to arrive at the nearby convenience store for their 6 a.m. opening I stepped out onto Taylor Street. Opposite the activity of the past few mornings the street was bustling with residents attired in work clothing making their way to their vehicles, buses or the train station waiting to deliver them to their places of employment. Most of the men were dressed in business suits, the women had the look of occupants of professional offices. It struck me that the throngs that inhabited Darlinghurst on weekend nights and early mornings was imported from other suburbs around Sydney. The locals all looked to be far too professional and serious to be involved in the shenanigans I could only imagine ocurred behind the neon lighted doorways of the business district.
I jaywalked across Flinders to the Coles Express store and grabbed 4 copies of the Sydney Morning Herald. I tucked them under my arm after I paid $6 for the privilege and declined the clerk's suggestion that I purchase gum or candy to go along with the papers. The paper is quite large and unwieldy compared to those we are used to in California so I decided to forgo looking for the announcement until I was back inside the unit. I dodged the now busy vehicle traffic mirroring my earlier steps and reentered the townhouse. I sat down at the dining room table with one copy of the voluminous Monday morning edition of the Sydney Morning Herald and began to search for the vital statistics announcements.
I spread the paper out over the dining room table. The Sydney Morning Herald is almost twice as wide as an American paper and on this day was all in one section. I believe its printed this way to make it easier to read on the train but I could have conjured that up in my mind. When holding the newspaper in its fully open position it nearly takes the extension of ones arms to their full limit. All the news that was fit to print on 11 October, 2010 fit into 22 pages of The Sydney Morning Herald. On the front page was a story about the decision to conduct a 4th Coronial Inquest into the death of Azaria Chamberlain. Azaria Chamberlain was a 9 1/2 week old baby that her parents say was taken by dingoes while camping in the Northern Territories in 1980. Here we are, 30 years later, and its still front page news. When I first started travelling to Australia about the same time she disappeared it was in the headlines then and this story was confirming that in the 30 years since she first went missing they haven't yet been able to figure it out. I started flipping through the pages and came across an article about the inordinate number of weddings that occurred in New South Wales the previous day, 10/10/10, and that many of the wedded couples were Chinese due to a cultural belief that repeating numbers bring good luck. Finally, I found the section of the newspaper that was to contain the notification. After the stories about the Aussie dollar being on par with the U.S. currency, the son of the North Korean dictator being seen in public, the publisher of Playboy magazine in Indonesia being imprisoned for publishing indiscretions, Facebook changing the way information is disseminated; After the Entertainment section touting current theatrical performances, concerts and films; After the Classified advertisements and a page devoted to educational issues; Immediately after a section that was an entire page requesting bids and proposals for various government contracts I found the section on page 19 entitled PERSONAL NOTICES with the sub-heading Death & Funerals. There, in alphabetical order, were the printed words no parent was ever meant to read.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Luke's, Arcadia, NSW
When we returned from our walk Candi and I took turns showering and getting dressed for the trip to Luke and Anita's home in Arcadia. Robin and Melissa picked us up at the townhouse at the pre-arranged time and we made the 1 hour trip out to Luke's uneventfully. It was a nice ride through the countryside, including a tour through the Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park. Given the remoteness of the property I was questioning my own resolve to make that drive into the city every day as Anita does for her job in the fashion industry before I grew tired of the commute. Luke has it somewhat easier in that he is an outside sales person and has the ability to do work from home as well as plan his ventures around the formidable Sydney traffic, nonetheless, the beauty and remoteness of their their home certainly comes with a price. We were the first to arrive and we were closely followed by Maggie and Shirley. Jeanette and her boyfriend, Frank, appeared soon after. Shirley Stanley's sister, Marie Sullivan arrived with her husband John about an hour after we had. Of course, they made a point to express their sorrow and shock upon learning of Geoff's death to me in a most compassionate way while we were walking around the property and related stories about the last time they had seen Geoff.
Luke and Anita have 2 children: Layla, their daughter, who is in her mid-teens and Luke-Jon, a son, just entering his teenage years. Layla has a particular love of horses and Luke and Anita purchased this home with acreage in the country in order to keep Layla's beautiful horse along with a menagerie of other creatures, including a feisty Shetland Pony. Luke-Jon's interest seemed to lie more in indoor activities such as video games and using the computer. Along with Geoff and Melissa, Laila and Luke-Jon comprise all of Shirley Stanley's grandchildren. Luke proudly took us on a tour of the property and introduced us to the animals before attending to the barbecue on the patio deck. The weather was perfect for an outdoor gathering and the group snacked on delicious appetizers prepared by Anita and the bounty from Luke's Barbee. There was plenty of beer and wine for those that wanted, which if my memory serves me correctly was everyone of age.
After spending a pleasant time at the home in Arcadia we said farewell to Luke's family and all the other attendees as Robin, Melissa, Candi and I headed out before dark for the return trip to Darlinghurst. It was a quiet ride as we were all likely exhausted from the events of the past days as well as the afternoon in the sun. We discussed some of the final details of the booklet for Geoff's service and recounted our schedule for the next day. Robin told us that she had contacted her friend that worked in the office at Our Lady of Fatima and she had promised to arrange an alternative for a priest to conduct Geoff's service as well as put us in contact with Sister Mary, who Melissa knew from her days at the St. Ursula School in Kingsgrove. Robin expected we would hear from them the following day, Monday. We also were scheduled to visit with Dr. Phillip Choi at St. George Hospital Medical Center to discuss his perspective on Geoff's death in the late afternoon on Monday. Dr. Choi was the associate of Dr. Michael Harvey and Dr. Choi had most recently seen Geoff on September 30. Dr. Harvey was Geoff's primary doctor (hematologist) related to his treatment and follow up for Hodgkin Lymphoma. Apparently Dr. Harvey was out of the country at a symposium and Dr. Choi had agreed to meet with us on his behalf. Knowing we were going to have a busy time the next day we were happy to have an early night.
Luke and Anita have 2 children: Layla, their daughter, who is in her mid-teens and Luke-Jon, a son, just entering his teenage years. Layla has a particular love of horses and Luke and Anita purchased this home with acreage in the country in order to keep Layla's beautiful horse along with a menagerie of other creatures, including a feisty Shetland Pony. Luke-Jon's interest seemed to lie more in indoor activities such as video games and using the computer. Along with Geoff and Melissa, Laila and Luke-Jon comprise all of Shirley Stanley's grandchildren. Luke proudly took us on a tour of the property and introduced us to the animals before attending to the barbecue on the patio deck. The weather was perfect for an outdoor gathering and the group snacked on delicious appetizers prepared by Anita and the bounty from Luke's Barbee. There was plenty of beer and wine for those that wanted, which if my memory serves me correctly was everyone of age.
After spending a pleasant time at the home in Arcadia we said farewell to Luke's family and all the other attendees as Robin, Melissa, Candi and I headed out before dark for the return trip to Darlinghurst. It was a quiet ride as we were all likely exhausted from the events of the past days as well as the afternoon in the sun. We discussed some of the final details of the booklet for Geoff's service and recounted our schedule for the next day. Robin told us that she had contacted her friend that worked in the office at Our Lady of Fatima and she had promised to arrange an alternative for a priest to conduct Geoff's service as well as put us in contact with Sister Mary, who Melissa knew from her days at the St. Ursula School in Kingsgrove. Robin expected we would hear from them the following day, Monday. We also were scheduled to visit with Dr. Phillip Choi at St. George Hospital Medical Center to discuss his perspective on Geoff's death in the late afternoon on Monday. Dr. Choi was the associate of Dr. Michael Harvey and Dr. Choi had most recently seen Geoff on September 30. Dr. Harvey was Geoff's primary doctor (hematologist) related to his treatment and follow up for Hodgkin Lymphoma. Apparently Dr. Harvey was out of the country at a symposium and Dr. Choi had agreed to meet with us on his behalf. Knowing we were going to have a busy time the next day we were happy to have an early night.
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| Map showing Bexley North, Kingsgrove, Darlinghurst, Paddington and Arcadia (top) relative to Sydney proper |
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Paddington Sunday
I awoke well before dawn on the Sunday morning as had been my routine. When I fell asleep a few hours before I had this vivid recollection of Geoff standing in the doorway of my room at the 4 Points Sheraton in Darling Harbour. The last time I had been to Sydney was July, 2009 and Geoff was so good to make sure he met up with Mitzi and me nearly every evening for dinner. Knowing he would take the train to the Town Hall station from North Sydney where he worked at Zlata Creative Design and then walk the 3 or 4 blocks to our hotel I always had a good idea of when he would appear but never exactly. I would leave the door to our room ajar using the metal security lock as a jamb so he could just come in when he arrived. Typically I would be sitting on the sofa watching the evening news and he would appear with his bag slung over his shoulder, sporting the biggest grin possible. I would always get up and walk to the treshhold and we would hug each other as was our custom. If he wasn't happy to see me he was an incredible actor.
As I climbed out from under the blankets and slipped on my socks I still had the vision of him in that doorway fresh in my consciousness. I have been told that I communicate with my eyes as much as with words and Geoff definitely inherited that trait. The image I have of Geoff in that hotel room entrance says "Dad, I'm happy you are here. I'm happy to be here and I'm happy we are together" although he maybe never said those exact words, I knew what he was thinking just by looking into his beautiful green eyes. I made my way down the staircase with my now usual caution and that memory locked in. As I prepared the espresso press for the first eye opening cup I couldn't shut off the recall; I wanted to keep that memory as vivid and fresh in my mind for as long as possible. I sat down at my regular spot and spent the next 45 minutes or so lost in my wonderful memories of Geoff. It was beginning to sink in that was all I had left of him. At some point my pleasant recollection dissolved into the bottomless pit of regret. Regret that I hadn't pushed him earlier in the year to make another trip to California or perhaps to meet up in Hawaii. When I brought up the idea to him of travelling in 2010 he rationalized that he was saving his money for "a deposit" which I presumed to be for a house or apartment of his own. It struck me at the time that I was proud of him when he told me that. Now I'm thinking how ironic and sad it is that he was saving his money for anything given the events of the past week. No amount of tears were going to bring him back, my intellect told me, but I tried like hell.
Just before dawn, as had become my routine, I grabbed my jacket and mobile phone and headed straight to the pocket bark-park so as to avoid the Darlinghurst partiers stumbling homeward. Candi was still sleeping and wouldn't stir until I disturbed her. I reached the park on that misty morning uneventfully and phoned Mitzi at home since it was Saturday in California. I related the events of the previous day including the fiasco at Our Lady of Fatima. I told her about our walk home and what I described to her as my "misbehaving". She listened to me and only provided words of support and caring love. She told me she was headed to Orange County (about a 2 hour drive) and would spend the night at her son's home in Irvine and then attend Tanner's birthday party the next day. Tanner is Candi's son, my grandson, and he was to have is 7th birthday on October 10, a day that also happened to be my parents 58th wedding anniversary. I thought that was a good idea and told her so. I was imagining how helpless she must be feeling, only able to know what was happening at this most difficult time in our lives through these daily phone conversations.
After the phone call I headed to the grocery store passing a group at the corner of Oxford Street and Flinders singing football songs at top volume in the increasing day light. A council employee was hosing off the sidewalk in front of the club from where they must have just retreated as a number of homeless people were attempting to sleep in the midst of all the commotion on a small plot of grass referred to by locals as "The Island". The contradiction struck me; the young men bellowing on the street after a night of partying probably had beds waiting for them at home which would have been a much more appropriate place for them at this early hour and the group sleeping next to all their worldly possessions on the common plot of turf in lieu of a bed were attempting to do so in spite of the noise.
I made my pass through the grocery store picking up a few needed items and stopped at the internet cafe to check my email before returning to the townhouse. I boiled some water in the kettle then headed up the stairway to awaken Candi. We discussed the relative value of the sleep we had the night before over our espresso and then decided to set out to explore the neighborhood known as Paddington in the opposite direction of where we had heretofor been walking. We figured we could get some breakfast at one of the sidewalk cafes that seemed to be everywhere.
Making a right hand turn on Oxford Street after we walked to the end of Taylor Street we started our trek through Paddington. In contrast to the neighborhoods we encountered when walking toward Hyde Park and the City Center, Paddington was quite gentrified and quaint. The shops seemed friendlier and trendier. We encountered Victoria Barracks not too long after we started our journey. Victoria Barracks was built in the 1840's and is still used as a military installation to this day. There was a guard posted at the gate on Oxford Street and we inquired about the current use of the facility which he explained was primarily for Australian Army offices and support services but that occasionally there are situations where active duty members of the Army occupy the grounds. He then invited us inside the gates to take a look at the facility while informing us that any kind of formal tour would require a reservation and the payment of a fee. We took a quick look inside, thanked him and continued on our way remarking to each other how unlikely it would be for similar treatment at a U.S. military installation.
After another 45 minutes, or so, we decided we were hungry and looked for a suitable cafe. Candi was convinced we needed to find a place that was busy in order to be assured that the food would be good. We happened upon a tiny place with small metal tables inside and out that was nearly packed with what appeared to be a cycling group out for their weekend ride. She gave this place her nod of approval and we ventured inside to find a place to sit. Occupying a too small table tucked in the corner we sat patiently waiting for the service personnel to notice us. After a few minutes of observation we concluded that to stay in our seats would only insure our hunger and Candi approached a 50ish looking woman with an incredibly deep voice that gave off the air of ownership to place our order. We had predetermined what we would be eating from the single menu on our table and after serving us coffee the presumed proprietor returned a short time later with our selections; mine was the smoked salmon, capers and toasted bagel with cream cheese. Candi had the meusli, yogurt and fruit. My food was excellent but I found myself with the type of envy one assumes when a fellow diner ordered what you should have. Knowing Candi never eats anything close to all the food on her plate and seeing how impressed she was with the meal, I was able to taste enough of her breakfast to know that when we returned, which we most surely would, exactly what I would have that next time.
Once we replaced all the calories we burned off on the walk to the cafe we paid our bill and headed back to Darlinghurst by the same route but on the opposite side of the street. We came upon a shop, "Vinnies" that had the look of a thrift store. Candi had been remarking about the shoes she bought the previous day with Jeanette and that on reflection they were more expensive than she was hoping. Wouldn't it be perfect if she could find a pair of shoes to match her dress in the thrift shop and then she could return both pairs she had purchased? "Vinnies" is apparently a local institution, the primary beneficiary being the St. Vincent de Paul Society and the proceeds are used for their various good works. She completed her socially conscious shopping snagging 2 pair of shoes and a book for less than 1/2 the cost of one of the pairs of shoes she had purchased at the mall. Candi was quite pleased and we made the rest of the walk back to the townhouse without any additional purchases, although the quest for bargains was constant.
As we sauntered back to Taylor Street I was thinking how great this opportunity was to be able to spend this time with my adult daughter unfiltered by the reality of our complicated daily lives back in California even though it was occurring under the most difficult circumstances possible. Just like the discordant revelers early this morning celebrating their consumption of way too much beer by singing lullabies to the homeless on "The Island" the joy of being able to spend this alone time with my daughter while mourning the death of my only son made no sense; then again, it made every bit of sense there was.
As I climbed out from under the blankets and slipped on my socks I still had the vision of him in that doorway fresh in my consciousness. I have been told that I communicate with my eyes as much as with words and Geoff definitely inherited that trait. The image I have of Geoff in that hotel room entrance says "Dad, I'm happy you are here. I'm happy to be here and I'm happy we are together" although he maybe never said those exact words, I knew what he was thinking just by looking into his beautiful green eyes. I made my way down the staircase with my now usual caution and that memory locked in. As I prepared the espresso press for the first eye opening cup I couldn't shut off the recall; I wanted to keep that memory as vivid and fresh in my mind for as long as possible. I sat down at my regular spot and spent the next 45 minutes or so lost in my wonderful memories of Geoff. It was beginning to sink in that was all I had left of him. At some point my pleasant recollection dissolved into the bottomless pit of regret. Regret that I hadn't pushed him earlier in the year to make another trip to California or perhaps to meet up in Hawaii. When I brought up the idea to him of travelling in 2010 he rationalized that he was saving his money for "a deposit" which I presumed to be for a house or apartment of his own. It struck me at the time that I was proud of him when he told me that. Now I'm thinking how ironic and sad it is that he was saving his money for anything given the events of the past week. No amount of tears were going to bring him back, my intellect told me, but I tried like hell.
Just before dawn, as had become my routine, I grabbed my jacket and mobile phone and headed straight to the pocket bark-park so as to avoid the Darlinghurst partiers stumbling homeward. Candi was still sleeping and wouldn't stir until I disturbed her. I reached the park on that misty morning uneventfully and phoned Mitzi at home since it was Saturday in California. I related the events of the previous day including the fiasco at Our Lady of Fatima. I told her about our walk home and what I described to her as my "misbehaving". She listened to me and only provided words of support and caring love. She told me she was headed to Orange County (about a 2 hour drive) and would spend the night at her son's home in Irvine and then attend Tanner's birthday party the next day. Tanner is Candi's son, my grandson, and he was to have is 7th birthday on October 10, a day that also happened to be my parents 58th wedding anniversary. I thought that was a good idea and told her so. I was imagining how helpless she must be feeling, only able to know what was happening at this most difficult time in our lives through these daily phone conversations.
After the phone call I headed to the grocery store passing a group at the corner of Oxford Street and Flinders singing football songs at top volume in the increasing day light. A council employee was hosing off the sidewalk in front of the club from where they must have just retreated as a number of homeless people were attempting to sleep in the midst of all the commotion on a small plot of grass referred to by locals as "The Island". The contradiction struck me; the young men bellowing on the street after a night of partying probably had beds waiting for them at home which would have been a much more appropriate place for them at this early hour and the group sleeping next to all their worldly possessions on the common plot of turf in lieu of a bed were attempting to do so in spite of the noise.
I made my pass through the grocery store picking up a few needed items and stopped at the internet cafe to check my email before returning to the townhouse. I boiled some water in the kettle then headed up the stairway to awaken Candi. We discussed the relative value of the sleep we had the night before over our espresso and then decided to set out to explore the neighborhood known as Paddington in the opposite direction of where we had heretofor been walking. We figured we could get some breakfast at one of the sidewalk cafes that seemed to be everywhere.
Making a right hand turn on Oxford Street after we walked to the end of Taylor Street we started our trek through Paddington. In contrast to the neighborhoods we encountered when walking toward Hyde Park and the City Center, Paddington was quite gentrified and quaint. The shops seemed friendlier and trendier. We encountered Victoria Barracks not too long after we started our journey. Victoria Barracks was built in the 1840's and is still used as a military installation to this day. There was a guard posted at the gate on Oxford Street and we inquired about the current use of the facility which he explained was primarily for Australian Army offices and support services but that occasionally there are situations where active duty members of the Army occupy the grounds. He then invited us inside the gates to take a look at the facility while informing us that any kind of formal tour would require a reservation and the payment of a fee. We took a quick look inside, thanked him and continued on our way remarking to each other how unlikely it would be for similar treatment at a U.S. military installation.
After another 45 minutes, or so, we decided we were hungry and looked for a suitable cafe. Candi was convinced we needed to find a place that was busy in order to be assured that the food would be good. We happened upon a tiny place with small metal tables inside and out that was nearly packed with what appeared to be a cycling group out for their weekend ride. She gave this place her nod of approval and we ventured inside to find a place to sit. Occupying a too small table tucked in the corner we sat patiently waiting for the service personnel to notice us. After a few minutes of observation we concluded that to stay in our seats would only insure our hunger and Candi approached a 50ish looking woman with an incredibly deep voice that gave off the air of ownership to place our order. We had predetermined what we would be eating from the single menu on our table and after serving us coffee the presumed proprietor returned a short time later with our selections; mine was the smoked salmon, capers and toasted bagel with cream cheese. Candi had the meusli, yogurt and fruit. My food was excellent but I found myself with the type of envy one assumes when a fellow diner ordered what you should have. Knowing Candi never eats anything close to all the food on her plate and seeing how impressed she was with the meal, I was able to taste enough of her breakfast to know that when we returned, which we most surely would, exactly what I would have that next time.
Once we replaced all the calories we burned off on the walk to the cafe we paid our bill and headed back to Darlinghurst by the same route but on the opposite side of the street. We came upon a shop, "Vinnies" that had the look of a thrift store. Candi had been remarking about the shoes she bought the previous day with Jeanette and that on reflection they were more expensive than she was hoping. Wouldn't it be perfect if she could find a pair of shoes to match her dress in the thrift shop and then she could return both pairs she had purchased? "Vinnies" is apparently a local institution, the primary beneficiary being the St. Vincent de Paul Society and the proceeds are used for their various good works. She completed her socially conscious shopping snagging 2 pair of shoes and a book for less than 1/2 the cost of one of the pairs of shoes she had purchased at the mall. Candi was quite pleased and we made the rest of the walk back to the townhouse without any additional purchases, although the quest for bargains was constant.
As we sauntered back to Taylor Street I was thinking how great this opportunity was to be able to spend this time with my adult daughter unfiltered by the reality of our complicated daily lives back in California even though it was occurring under the most difficult circumstances possible. Just like the discordant revelers early this morning celebrating their consumption of way too much beer by singing lullabies to the homeless on "The Island" the joy of being able to spend this alone time with my daughter while mourning the death of my only son made no sense; then again, it made every bit of sense there was.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Walking to Bexley North
I had not brought a jacket when we left for the appointment at Our Lady of Fatima as it was a relatively warm afternoon and I just didn't think much about it. As we started our walk home it was immediately obvious that the darkness had brought much cooler temperatures. Robin, Melissa and I started out briskly toward Bexley North. They knew full well the route we would take; I didn't have a clue. Although Robin and I had divorced over 15 years earlier she apparently still had good intuition about how I was feeling which no doubt manifested itself in her suggestion for walking back to the house. Being relatively early on a Saturday evening there was a fair amount of traffic in the streets filled with locals bringing home take away food or the babysitter or headed out to a movie or returning from their shopping excursions. The wind had started up which added to the nippiness.
As is her style, Robin said nothing and I started feeling that some sort of apology for my obvious dissatisfaction during our meeting that was just concluded at OLF was in order. As we moved along the city streets I started to speak and I felt the frustration of the last few days well up inside of me combined with the anger and sorrow about the death of my son and the lack of knowledge as to the reason he was no longer with us. I began a diatribe of which I have very little memory of the details but primarily my loss of emotional control. I do remember at one point extolling the ludicrousness of what had become a pointless question in my mind "What would Geoff want?". I think I screamed at the top of my lungs that the only thing Geoff would want was to be among us, walking down that street, sharing his stories of the day and that all these other attempts at determining what our son and brother would have wanted after he died were futile; that what we were determining was not what Geoff would want but what we think he would want if we were him (which we certainly were not) because we couldn't ask him and there was no possible way to know if we were correct. Because he was gone and we didn't know why and because he had left us all alone and he never said goodbye.
At least twice during the walk home Melissa stopped me from stepping in front of incoming traffic at roundabouts, not because I wanted to do anything drastic but my current level of distraction didn't account for the cars coming from the opposite direction to which I was used. At one point she told me to follow her and not walk in front. I'm sure the 1 1/2 miles turned into more than 3 and that Robin and Melissa herded me up and down streets that in no way led directly to Robin's place in Bexley North. I found myself shivering from the coldness and the emotion but not always at the same time. At one point Robin took control of the dialogue; "We will find someone else to conduct Geoff's service. We have a friend that does volunteer work in the office and we'll ring her. I'm sure she can help us get someone else." These were calming words to my fractured perception and I found myself starting to breathe normally again. Yes, we'll get someone else. I was thinking rationally again. We'll call the office at OLF and they will find someone else that will do a better job. I then saw the familiar porch light of the little house in Bexley North. Robin's dented car was in the driveway, the garage was just how we left it. I had no idea how long we had been walking.
We wiped our feet before entering the much warmer confines and found Candi, Jo and Mag preparing dinner in the kitchen. A gluten free, vegetarian pasta dish for Candi (that we all tried and surprised ourselves as to its tastiness) along with other noodle based dishes provided by our many supporters, a nice salad and more of the endless, tasty dishes prepared and sent over by JoJo's mother. We broke out the wine and I know I started to feel better but certainly not normal. We agreed that after dinner Robin would take us back to our townhouse and Mag and Melissa would come along for the ride, so that Maggie could see first hand the accommodation, since she had heard all the stories. We compared notes about where we were with our individual assignments related to the upcoming Wednesday deadline and shared more memories about Geoff that had entered our consciousness since the previous evening.
After the dishes were cleaned we piled into the dented automobile and with the vibration noise that we now found quite funny headed off toward Darlinghurst in the rain. It was Saturday night so we knew the traffic would be thick. Since we had each other's company and although the ride was longer than normal it seemed quicker than the actual time. Robin dropped us at the front of the unit and drove away to find a parking spot which were in even shorter supply. Melissa and Maggie came inside with Candi and me and we gave them the tour of the downstairs. In a few minutes Robin knocked and we let her inside. We inquired as to who would be interested in attempting the adventure of making the climb up and then the descent of the dreaded staircase. Maggie and Melissa were both up to it and I caught them each leaning on the brick wall as they went upstairs to see the bedrooms. As they turned to navigate the downward portion Maggie chose to make the treacherous trip on the seat of her pants, one step at a time. This gave us all another bit of comic relief.
We had a couple bottles of wine that I purchased at a bottle shop on Oxford Street and we sat around the dining table for a short while with our drinks and talking about the good and not so good things of our situation there in Darlinghurst. On balance, the benefits far outweighed the negatives of either the location or physical challenges of Candi and my temporary "home". We recognized that it was getting late and agreed that since we were headed to Luke's home for our outing the following day (Sunday) Robin would pick us up around Noon. Candi and I liked that idea as it would give us some time to explore some of the other neighborhoods around us. We said goodbye to the three heading back to Bexley North and Candi and I readied ourselves for bed. We sat at the breakfast bar for a while before turning in discussing the events of the day, what was likely going on back home in California and the reality that her 2 young children were missing her very much since she had not prepared them in any way for her absence. We decided to head out of our townhouse at 8 a.m. the next morning for a walk and to find some breakfast in one of the sidewalk cafes in Paddington.
As I closed the door to my bedroom I could make out the distinct sounds of a party we had observed only a couple of units away when Robin had dropped us off. Knowing that it was just past midnight I wondered how long they would keep at it. I remembered I had a bottle of Advil PM in my luggage and decided to take one (why hadn't I thought about that the previous nights?). I managed to doze off within 30 minutes while doing my best to remember every detail I could recall about the last time I saw my son.
As is her style, Robin said nothing and I started feeling that some sort of apology for my obvious dissatisfaction during our meeting that was just concluded at OLF was in order. As we moved along the city streets I started to speak and I felt the frustration of the last few days well up inside of me combined with the anger and sorrow about the death of my son and the lack of knowledge as to the reason he was no longer with us. I began a diatribe of which I have very little memory of the details but primarily my loss of emotional control. I do remember at one point extolling the ludicrousness of what had become a pointless question in my mind "What would Geoff want?". I think I screamed at the top of my lungs that the only thing Geoff would want was to be among us, walking down that street, sharing his stories of the day and that all these other attempts at determining what our son and brother would have wanted after he died were futile; that what we were determining was not what Geoff would want but what we think he would want if we were him (which we certainly were not) because we couldn't ask him and there was no possible way to know if we were correct. Because he was gone and we didn't know why and because he had left us all alone and he never said goodbye.
At least twice during the walk home Melissa stopped me from stepping in front of incoming traffic at roundabouts, not because I wanted to do anything drastic but my current level of distraction didn't account for the cars coming from the opposite direction to which I was used. At one point she told me to follow her and not walk in front. I'm sure the 1 1/2 miles turned into more than 3 and that Robin and Melissa herded me up and down streets that in no way led directly to Robin's place in Bexley North. I found myself shivering from the coldness and the emotion but not always at the same time. At one point Robin took control of the dialogue; "We will find someone else to conduct Geoff's service. We have a friend that does volunteer work in the office and we'll ring her. I'm sure she can help us get someone else." These were calming words to my fractured perception and I found myself starting to breathe normally again. Yes, we'll get someone else. I was thinking rationally again. We'll call the office at OLF and they will find someone else that will do a better job. I then saw the familiar porch light of the little house in Bexley North. Robin's dented car was in the driveway, the garage was just how we left it. I had no idea how long we had been walking.
We wiped our feet before entering the much warmer confines and found Candi, Jo and Mag preparing dinner in the kitchen. A gluten free, vegetarian pasta dish for Candi (that we all tried and surprised ourselves as to its tastiness) along with other noodle based dishes provided by our many supporters, a nice salad and more of the endless, tasty dishes prepared and sent over by JoJo's mother. We broke out the wine and I know I started to feel better but certainly not normal. We agreed that after dinner Robin would take us back to our townhouse and Mag and Melissa would come along for the ride, so that Maggie could see first hand the accommodation, since she had heard all the stories. We compared notes about where we were with our individual assignments related to the upcoming Wednesday deadline and shared more memories about Geoff that had entered our consciousness since the previous evening.
After the dishes were cleaned we piled into the dented automobile and with the vibration noise that we now found quite funny headed off toward Darlinghurst in the rain. It was Saturday night so we knew the traffic would be thick. Since we had each other's company and although the ride was longer than normal it seemed quicker than the actual time. Robin dropped us at the front of the unit and drove away to find a parking spot which were in even shorter supply. Melissa and Maggie came inside with Candi and me and we gave them the tour of the downstairs. In a few minutes Robin knocked and we let her inside. We inquired as to who would be interested in attempting the adventure of making the climb up and then the descent of the dreaded staircase. Maggie and Melissa were both up to it and I caught them each leaning on the brick wall as they went upstairs to see the bedrooms. As they turned to navigate the downward portion Maggie chose to make the treacherous trip on the seat of her pants, one step at a time. This gave us all another bit of comic relief.
We had a couple bottles of wine that I purchased at a bottle shop on Oxford Street and we sat around the dining table for a short while with our drinks and talking about the good and not so good things of our situation there in Darlinghurst. On balance, the benefits far outweighed the negatives of either the location or physical challenges of Candi and my temporary "home". We recognized that it was getting late and agreed that since we were headed to Luke's home for our outing the following day (Sunday) Robin would pick us up around Noon. Candi and I liked that idea as it would give us some time to explore some of the other neighborhoods around us. We said goodbye to the three heading back to Bexley North and Candi and I readied ourselves for bed. We sat at the breakfast bar for a while before turning in discussing the events of the day, what was likely going on back home in California and the reality that her 2 young children were missing her very much since she had not prepared them in any way for her absence. We decided to head out of our townhouse at 8 a.m. the next morning for a walk and to find some breakfast in one of the sidewalk cafes in Paddington.
As I closed the door to my bedroom I could make out the distinct sounds of a party we had observed only a couple of units away when Robin had dropped us off. Knowing that it was just past midnight I wondered how long they would keep at it. I remembered I had a bottle of Advil PM in my luggage and decided to take one (why hadn't I thought about that the previous nights?). I managed to doze off within 30 minutes while doing my best to remember every detail I could recall about the last time I saw my son.
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