Stop the Clocks...

I'm in shock and deeply saddened. Today my beloved Grandpa, Neville Keith Drews passed away suddenly but peacefully at 5:27pm.

It doesn't seem real. Only two nights ago we celebrated as a family Nanny & Pop's 60th Wedding Anniversay. He was the life of the party...

Just last night we again joined for a big family meal - celebrating a second time (eating the leftovers)! Pop was our usually loving, witty and clever Pop. What a wonderful time we had together. I will forever be grateful to have had that meal.

So it seems so devastatingly unbelievable today Pop is gone. This morning, after driving to Uncle Noel's for a visit, he returned home and complained of a headache. When Nanny enquired after him only a few moments later, he said it was the worst headache of his life. Ironically he was right.

Moments later he was in the ambulance (he walked down the stairs himself) but had to be revived upon arrival at the hospital. At about 11:30am I received a call from my Uncle Tim advising us that Pop was in hospital and was having tests; and could I call mum and dad to tell them as he couldn't get hold of him. At that point I didn't realise how serious it was.

I tried calling Dad and by the time I was able to reach him, he'd just spoken to Tim. It was not looking good: they were on their way up, and would let us know how he was. It was not long after when he called to say we should come up. They'd already called my Uncle Neville (named after his father) would was trying to arrange flights from Atherton.

Bethany was still asleep and Lachlan was with Kylie. We rang Kylie and arranged for her to come over to our house with Lach, and we'll travel up in convoy (we can't all fit in one car). We rang Beck- Cella had just gone down to sleep, so they would come later. Kylie arrived in due time, and we all set off: Kevan & Bethany in his ute; Kylie, the boys and I in hers. We were mid way when Dad called again with the message to come straight away. I then rang Beck and told her she needed to wake Cella and come now.

On the way to the hospital I prepared the boys for what was to happen. They were coping okay thus far, and had spent time with Grandpa Moore on his last day, so there were a little prepared of what to expect already. Except this was a little different. When we arrived Pop was hooked up to all manner of machines. It was a massive brain haemorrhage, one that he could not recover from.

They removed the ventilator and then we waited with him. We sang to him, "I'm in His hands" which was a hymn he'd cherished. It was hard because that was the same hymn we'd sang to Grandpa Moore only three months earlier. Then at around 5:30pm, our beloved Pop breathed his last and passed into eternity.

It's hard to believe. I grew up practically at their house. Every Sunday we went there for meals, and would spend most of the afternoon there. Pop was a 'hands on' Grandpa. He'd be down there on the floor, playing with us. He taught me how to play chess, ping pong (table tennis - but he always called it ping pong), and solitaire. He was pretty good at ping pong. He'd lure you into thinking you just might have a chance to win, and then he'd start playing properly. He was a master at spinning the ball, and he had a smash like lightening too! And sure enough, without fail, he would kindly point out the table edges whenever my shot missed the table! Just in case I didn't know where the table stopped etc.

He'd rearrange his furniture and build us lounge cubbies out of their lounge suite. As a parent now myself I can't imagine me doing that to our lounge - but with Pop - nothing was a problem. We'd even eat ice cream on the carpet - deftly protected by the big ole army blanket of course! And Pop would sit on the floor there with us.

He'd say "MWAS" - 'My Wants Are Small' - each and every time you'd ask him if he wanted something like a cup of tea etc. And when you'd ask, "Tea or Coffee" - he'd reply "bonox" with an impish grin. I would often ring him to ask how to solve a math problem, or work out a formula - he'd recall it instantly. Even in business - "Pop, how do you convert this volume / cubing" - he'd give you the answer instantly and was pleased to be able to do so.

And speaking of in business - Pop often dropped by work for a chat and a coffee. Perhaps of all our family members, he was the one who took the most interest in all we were doing with our company. He was always ready to given wise counsel and to talk over our future plans.

Even with his great-grandchildren - Pop would still be on the floor, playing with them. Just the other day he lay on the floor next to Bethany, and let her play with his hair.

He was always there. And I guess we thought that would always be the case. So that's why I say 'stop all the clocks" (as in the poem by W.H Auden) - because it's a different day now and forevermore.

We will love and miss you forever Pop. Forever loved, forever missed. Forever grateful just to have you, even for a short time.