At 6.35 this morning (Sunday) I was privileged to hand over care of Sue to our Father God. It was a seamless, peaceful and also imperceptible transition. She died as she had lived - with honesty, a quiet dignity, gentleness, humility, generosity of spirit and a simple but profound faith.

The last few days had been essentially peaceful ones, though Sue had ceased to be perceptively responsive to sound, touch or other stimulii.

I had been sitting with her all night as it seemed clear that death was fairly imminent. I played music that reminded us both of God's grace and lovingkindness, and the assurance of life with him forever through Christ's sacrifice. I held her hand, stroked her arm and occasionally ran my fingers through her hair. I whispered 'sweet nothings' and 'sweet somethings' at regular intervals and assured her of her past, present and future impact on those privileged to spend time with her. I read passages of scripture. I shed more than the odd tear, but also smiled often. I administered her medications and wrote notes about what I might say at her memorial service. I watched and waited. I dozed and snapped awake and dozed again.

To tell you the truth, I also became a little impatient and frustrated too. It was clear that her body was failing her. She had the desire and our permission to 'let go'. Yet each time her breathing ceased for longer than usual after a sharp inhalation, I would lean in expectant, only to have her exhale and breathe once more. This went on over many hours. I admit that there were times when it felt like she was deliberately teasing me, so I began to smile each time this occurred. It was like a secret and tender by-play usually reserved for lovers....

By 6.00am I realised that if I was to face the new day, I would need a shower and a strong coffee so I proceeded to organise both. Soon after I sat back down and took her hand, she quietly stopped breathing. It was beautiful, and sacred, and sad, and joyous, and releasing, and.....

As the day unfolded and all manner of things were attended to I became increasingly aware of the love, care, support that was flowing freely and naturally back and forth between all those who spent time in our home - particularly our kids and other family. We wept, but we also laughed and joked and reminisced and ate and enjoyed being together. It was a beautiful demonstration of 'family' at its best. This, I realised was one of Sue's most significant legacies 'in action'.

On Tuesday 26th we will all fly out to Adelaide to connect with our wider families of origin, and for a private memorial service later in the week. We will return to Darwin on Saturday 30th.

On Wednesday 3rd June from 7.00pm there will be a public time of celebration and thanksgiving for Sue's life held on the grounds of Marrara Christian College, cnr McMillans Road and Amy Johnson Ave, Marrara. An informal supper will follow. All are welcome.

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