Blimmin Hec

I chose this title for this blog, because this last week, on 1st May, my grandfather past away, at the age of 80. Friends of my popa called him Hec (his name was Alexander, shortened to Alec, and Hec), and as kids, we joked about him being called "Blimmin Hec".

R.I.P Alexander Kenneth Pearson

20 April 1928 - 1 May 2008

When we decided to go on our OE, both Bevan and I acknowledged that our grandparents could possibly pass away while we did our OE. So in some ways we were prepared for this - well, we had at least thought about it.

In many ways I am grateful that my grandfather has been released from probably more than ten years of the tightening grip of Alzheimers, which was is an extremely cruel disease.


When someone dies, it brings it closer to home that we are mere mortal human beings. During that same week, a work mate of mine had received a phone, that dreaded phone call - at work, her parents had been holidaying in the Netherlands, and had driven to Brussels for the day, when her father died suddenly(I am still not sure what actually happened). But nobody can ever be prepared for one of those life changing calls.


The circle of life is a strange one, because whilst we mourn the loss of a loved one, I also know three couples that have had babies in the last week

I think the hardest bit for me has been that I haven't really been affected by the whole thing, because when you are on the other side of the world, you don't experience the emotion of your nana becoming a widow first hand, or your mother and uncle losing a much loved father. You don't see all the flowers that people send to the family - what's worse was I sent flowers to my nana, as if I was an onlooker, outside of the family circle.

Not to mention the funeral, you don't see the funeral sheet with a picture of your grandfather on it, with his birth date and date of passing. You don't see the 250 or so people that turned up to pay their respects to a person that has in some way touched their lives.



The weirdest thing of all, is that all of these people went to my grandfathers funeral, when even I didn't get to go. I think that the reality probably won't fully hit me until I go home to NZ again, and suddenly there will be someone missing from our family gatherings, and visits to nanas.

I don't know too much about my grandfathers life, however the thoughts I will carry with me about him will be long walks at the Mt, along the beach and around the Mt. Watching him slick his white hair using hair gel and a comb (my own father doesn't even use gel - I think this further added to the fascination).

As a child, Popa always used to get me to sit on the foot rest (a charming 1970's shade of calf poo yellow footrest I might add!) in front of his lazy-boy chair in the lounge, so that he could plait my hair. Popa was a quiet, conservative man, who provided a solid foundation for my nana. A very sporty man, he was heavily involved in golf, running fundraisers for the golf club, and I believe, back in the day, he was the kicker for the Waikato rugby league team. A mechanic by trade, we enjoyed playing with the tools in popa's garage, and rides in his ford escort van. As the only grandfather I have known (my other grandfather died before I was born), he'll always have a special place in my heart.

Rest in peace Popa
Jam and Bev