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I am an Australian. I was born here and will hopefully die here. The strange thing that I have just encountered is that my late Dad was an Australian but he wanted to go " home. " 

I took him back to the place he requested and I stood there and wondered why. Why did he want to go back to a place where he had not seen or visited since his birth? 

He didn't expect to die. None of us do. It is not like many of us get that horrible conversation with our Doctor when he or she says " sorry, you are going to die. Sort out your life and make sure everything is in order. 

Dad didn't have that warning. He was a fit, healthy, and active man who had been down on his luck. The Covid fallout I guess. He tried to keep his business alive. Paid his employees. He wouldn't get vaccinated. No way.  

Dad lost our family home. Our family business. But it was OK. Because he did the right thing. 

I am reasonably successful in business so Mum and Dad came to live with me. We bought a caravan. Pretty flash actually. Cost a few bucks and Mum and Dad moved in. We made sure that the power was hooked up and paid.  It wasn't my duty. It was my honour. 

A few weeks ago, Dad went out for a walk. He got hit by an e-scooter. He fell on the concrete footpath and died not too long after. 

EV's save lives. Bullshit. 

Dad was born in New Zealand in a place I have never been to and neither had Dad since his birth and his move to Australia over 60 years ago.  He had never been back to New Zealand since his birth so why would he say in his will he wanted to go " home. ?" 

I have just spent a week in New Zealand. In the most southern part of the world. A place called Bluff. That is where Dad was born.  I can tell you, it is cold. Bleak. Fiercely cold. I was asked to scatter his ashes over this cold ocean that seemed so unlike my Dad. He was a gentle man. Why would he want to end his life in this strange place where he was alone? All I knew was that it was too cold, too isolated and Dad was not cold or isolated in his life. 

In fact, he was very soft, kind and very decent and caring. I stood by that bluff at Bluff and wondered why. 

I didn't do as he asked. He has come back with me. Sorry, Dad. 

The problem was that his will had been written in 1988. Never updated. Mum said that he wrote it when he had a visit from a relative from New Zealand. 

My problem is this. Why didn't Dad change his will? Why did he make me do this?  I stood there to do my duty but I felt so wrong. To me, it was wrong but that was what I was asked to do. 

I guess my point is that we need to keep things up to date. I can not imagine Dad wanting to be thrown into a cold and unfamiliar place. I just couldn't do it. 

I was sitting on the plane coming back and I had a few hours to think about it all. 

Did I do the right thing? Was I right to defy his wishes? 

I know that what I am writing starts with I or Me all the time. But I am still troubled by the decision I made. 

Michael M didn't deserve to be thrown over a cliff in some cold foreign land. Just because someone told him that it was the right thing to do because of his heritage. 

He was an Australian. 

He was True Blue. 


I am sure I will be in trouble with the family for my decision but that is what it is. I want Dad here, at home, in  Australia. Because Dad was not a Kiwi. He was and will always be an Australian. 




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