Shiv sharing…

In PNG, a funeral is called a “Haus Krai”. Literally “the house cries”, which I think is a very appropriate translation. Wednesday night I stayed up late so that I could watch my Grandmother’s funeral. 12 Noon in the UK is 10pm in PNG, and on a “school night” that’s very late for us, so Ryan had to go to bed at his usual time of 8pm so that he would be awake and alert to fly the next day. But I had Koda for company, which I was grateful for. Grief is not meant to be dealt with alone.

Over the past 11 years living in PNG I’ve missed weddings, funerals, births, birthdays and so many occasions. Generally I just focus on the positives, counting my blessings to know those people and to be able to celebrate or mourn with them, even from a distance. But this time was different. Loosing my Nanna so quickly, a woman whose joy for life and love for her family and friends was always so obvious, has hit me harder than I expected. She lived a good life. Married a wonderful man, had loving kids, grandkids and great-grandkids. She had many friends and enjoyed her retirement immensely. I think, knowing that someone I love, with such a constant lust for life is no longer on earth laughing, is just really hard for me.

I remember at her Anniversary party, maybe 40th or 50th, I can’t remember, she was on the dance floor with her sisters, laughing and giggling away like they were school girls, apart from the white hair! At my wedding, she was disappointed that she couldn’t dance because of the pain she was in as she was going for a hip replacement the following week. My Dad & I agreed, we had to have a dance with her, so we put a chair on the dance floor and we danced around her whilst she boogied in her chair, one of my most precious memories with her!

My Nanna Niece, Nanny Denise, gone but never forgotten. Thank you for teaching me how a smile can lift even the toughest day, and how laughter is the best medicine! I love you now and always and count myself blessed to have known you and been loved by you!!!

This past couple of months have made me consider if staying in PNG is right, as I’ve not been able to be there to support my family. But, my ever practical Dad, despite his own grief, pointed out that there was nothing I could have done if I had been there. We’ve also experienced other blessings this year to remind and convince me that this work, bringing help, hope and healing to the poor and isolated people of PNG, is still the work that God wants us to do.