Sunday, August 14, 2011

Weeping waters

It's Sunday evening. Julio is talking to his wife on Skype, and I'm very weepy because I can't talk to my husband and I've just watched Tangiwai: A Love Story. Harvey would have absolutely loved it, it had everything - romance, cricket, tragedy, and a superb portrayal of a slice of New Zealand history he would have remembered so clearly - including the divide that used to exist between Catholics and Protestants. So I'm crying partly because he couldn't be here to share it with me, and partly because those poor people died, as he did, at Christmas, and the grief of those who loved them was so movingly conveyed.
              And the other reason I'm feeling his loss so keenly tonight is that this afternoon, astonishingly, it snowed in Karori, and not just on the hills but in my own backyard. It wasn't a few flakes melting when they hit the ground, as happened twice in the twenty-seven years we lived in Northland - it was real snow, falling for long enough to cover the grass and trees in white. And he wasn't here to see that either.



  1. I hope you are staying warm Anne. I can imagine your response to both the snow and Tangiwai. We loved watching both over the last few days. The film, so sad, but so beautifully recreating that period in NZ life. Missing the tangible company of one's mate when there are special things to enjoy/savour is one of the toughtest challenges (among several!) I think. Warm wishes

  2. Thank you for your honest post Anne. Grief washes through us so deeply at times after the loss of a loved one.

    My mother, newly pregnant with me and my father would have been on that train had it not been for a random offer of a car ride that night to Hamilton to be with family for Xmas.
    I watched most of the film on Sunday night but went out and made tea during the scene where the drowning of the young woman occured.
    I had heard a little of Kathryn Ryan's interview with Bob Blair a few days before the showing on television.
    I imagine the film touched him profoundly too.

  3. Dear Anne,
    Yes, I think a big part of grief is no longer being able to share things with the person.

    But then again, perhaps the dead are always with us, and do know about things.

  4. Sharp moments indeed, when the loss cuts deep. I know those times, and they can be quite unexpected.