For my Dad is?

Death, a friend or foe?

To be feared or embraced?

A satisfied finale or a sordid defeat?

My siblings and I watch our 98 year old father suffer as his body refuses to relinquish life. It has no reason to,  though weary and worn out.

Death changes it’s face as we grow older. We spend our lives avoiding death if at all possible. For my Dad death is a safe haven which he longs to sail into and put his anchor down, after a long and satisfying journey.

Mentally as agile as ever.  His body is worn out.  How frustrated he is.  Death for him has no “sting”. He has climbed to the mountain top and  looked over the promised land.  The future he sees ahead, he is satisfied  to  leave for his children, his grandchildren and great-grandchildren to conquer. He no longer has the strength.

A place of many possibilities because of my Dad and his generation.

 

Frederick Clifford born so long ago, 1917,

this my Dad to be.

Father William, Mother Bertha, 2 brothers 3 sisters and Cliff,

the family.

Ille, Rene, Vic,  Mary, and Laurie, all gone. Dad old and frail,

it seems so sad.

But, really much to celebrate, each one of us,

should really be so glad.

The harmony and riches in NZ. This is ours to enjoy,

because in a way.

My Dad and his generation had values, beliefs, and ethics,

so often missed today.

Their Grandfather had sailed out from England an

“Albertlander”was he.

A lowly peasant in England, really considered

a nobody, you see.

Through amazing hardship and toil, with determination,

he finally won.

His prize secure, he made sure there was a farm for each

and every lucky son.

Dad’s father , my grandfather, told me how at 19 he

proudly had his farm.

1000 acres, all bush, shed for a home. Just expected he said ,

No cause for alarm.

And so it was true, 20 years later, when my Dad was born into

a beautiful home.

Well established dairy farm, Chairman District Council,

WR Grant was well known.

Seems to me looking from afar, that these men were

made for their time.

A faith in God, loyalty to family and community, they built a nation

I call mine.

I grew up in a family knowing love, fun, and a real,

and absolute security.

No TV, or explicit movie, a safe protected childhood full of

love and purity.

Our Dad organising games nights for school, relies, and friends.

He had a reputation.

My Dad was always out there to support. I admit sometimes to

his son’s frustration.

A&P Shows, building a local church, referee then

president District hockey.

Rotary, bowls, photography, participant to president,

the way it went usually.

Pig Marketing Council, School commitee…..

Cliff was always there.

So many things long forgotten now. Yet a legacy

still with us here .

And yet my Dad was first and foremost family,

how lucky for us kids.

We all knew if any one of us had a need ,

all else was put on the skids.

A welcoming home where we so often entertained ,

cousins and friends.

Cards, table tennis, bowls, games, whatever were

the latest trends.

Dad, not an orator, a profound thinker, a philosopher,

a practical man

And yet he suprised his son again, this hardworking farmer,

this fisherman.

Persuaded by Mum to finally take up bowls, a winner again,

with prizes galore.

At 60 photography became his big thing, winning prizes

to gloat over once more.

But one more challenge was waiting for Dad, Mum died

he had lost his dear wife.

He shocked us kids, found Margaret, marriage a great success,

just got on with life.

A life so full of variety and challenge, 90 years of living

through so much change.

No car, airplane, telephone, so much now common

would have seemed strange.

Depressions and world wars,  History was happening

as he lived his life.

Dad faced the challenges of his day supporting

four kids and his wife.

Amazing the influence our Dad did have, the  attributes that

Dad passed on.

To children, grandchildren, his traits are with us though

he is all but gone.

Eileen, my sis dependable, stable, reliable. Hugh perfectionist

out to win.

Bob, socialiser, a popular good guy, Murray bald with his

Dad’s big grin.

How blessed my family, country, nation are because of

men like you Dad.

A simple faith in God and belief system,

unquestioning stoically had.

So much we owe to this previous generation. I for one will

try my very best.

To honour my Dad by holding these values, as he takes his

well deserved rest.

They met and overcame the great challenges

of their day.

May God help us to overcome our problems,

that very same way.

Thanks Dad for all you have given, the list too long

to tally up here.

Well done, from a proud son, God bless as you struggle through

your 98th year!

Your son

Asaw Miller

 

 

 

 

12 April 1941 – 3 November 2014

A war baby, mother always said such a difficult child.  Determined ,strong willed, every day a battle.  It was three years later I arrived in this world, he was my big brother.

By the time I knew him, Mum and Dad had won the war.  His whole life now dedicated to excellence.  By the measuring stick of his peers an outstanding success.

First noticed at the competitive primary school calf club day. Setting the bar high for his two younger brothers to follow.  Constant leading had a totally obedient docile calf.  Hour upon hour of methodical brushing, until coat was sleek and shiny.  One year Hugh decided, docile was not the look wanted.  His calf would “trot” around the ring.  Of course he had his way, calf dutifully performed for the judge, but, as was to prove so often, the “judge” preferred conformity.

And so it was.  My brother Bob and I, gifted with far less talent and determination, had the unfortunate role of growing up in the footsteps of this brother, who excelled in all things.

Not that Hugh ever seemed to notice his far superior abilities.  His constant focus always on how he could improve.  In fact his favorite quote throughout his life, “but He said to me, My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness”

At High School, an outstanding rugby player, coming home bearing a placard,”the most promising rugby player of the tournament”. Captain of the first eleven, again the proud recipient of a cricket bat inscribed “player of the tournament.”

The perfect student, achieving a high academic standard.

Despite his obvious ability to choose many avenues, farming was in his blood.  Dairy farming his great and abiding passion until the day he died.

I also saw then, at first hand the other driving passion in Hugh’s life.  Sharing a bedroom with his two brothers, I saw this young teenager nightly pouring over the bible.  The rest of his life was based on this, in his inimical determined way.  Never satisfied with the status quo, Hugh was forever delving into his latest in depth realisation.  There could be more.

Farming still his passion, at 19 years old, Hugh owned a rundown dairy farm.  His home for the next 54 years as he transformed it into a productive farm with a high performing herd.

Still achieving in sport, hockey his game now, playing for his province, he was asked to trial for the national team.  Owning a farm and national representation a tough call, farming won out.

Now of course, also a wife, then a daughter, and a son.  Hugh always the great protector, benefactor, adviser, preacher, for family, church, and local community..  Life moving on now, children, then grandchildren in the home, on the farm.  Heartache and worries of a grandfather.  In their veins ran also that determination to name their own destiny. Always going to be difficult.

The great attribute of my brother Hugh though, his 100% commitment and passion for what he was doing.  Not always comfortable to be around for the unenthused.  His determination to seek the best.  Never afraid to court controversy, to challenge the status qoa, in his quest for the better way.  In himself and his local community.

This became the tone for his entire life, striving for the very best, the highest standard. This sometimes distanced this man from his peers.  Most of us are more comfortable with the medioca.

Above all this characterised his walk with God, in his journey of discovery.

It is said” I know your deeds that you are neither cold nor hot.  I wish you were one or the other”  Hugh could never be accused of being lukewarm, about any task put before him.  Sportsman,photography,potter,dairy farmer, husband, father,grandfather.  Above all else dedicated to his God.

Farewell Hugh, tomorrow we must again face life’s struggles, for you the rush to excellence is over, rest in peace.

“I tell you the truth, whoever hears my words and believes in Him who sent me has eternal life, and will not be condemned, he has crossed over from death to life.”

“the righteous shall shine like the sun in the kingdom of heaven”

“for everyone who has, will be given more, and he will have an abundance”

 

My brother Hugh died this week.

To young, so much more living.

Why,why, we so need him here.

So much to offer, always giving.

Why did he die,

I ask with a sigh.

For wife, children, grandchildren,

all given such love and good care.

His church, and neighbors, me,

We need you, it seems so unfair.

Why, we all ask why?

Did this good man die.

Your journey through life cut short.

Such plans you had, for years ahead.

Your life mapped out, so much to do.

Death has robbed us, of you instead.

Again I ask with tears,why?

As I see him on deathbed lie.

Upright,such talent,now gone forever.

To know big brother was always there.

Why his life my God did you take?

So many people depend on his care.

Why did he die?

I ask with a sigh.

 

Our journey in this life like sailing the seas.

Know where we are going,

will get there with ease.

Then what do I see,

just where are we going?

Rush to the captain,

says why are you worrying.

Sometimes you plan,

your journey so well.

But the winds may change,

you never can tell.

The captain has seen,

a changed wind today

Far easier to go home.

No need for further delay.

For that was always where,

we were heading you see.

Will now get there early.

Where we’re meant to be.

 

Your time to die.

With envious sigh,

I say my goodbye.

Now, I know why.

From Your brother

Asaw Miller

 

 

 

 

 

 

Who am I? A question I often ask myself.

An ordinary guy, living life ordinarily.

And yet my life is the most important thing in the world for me.

Understandably, nobody else has that view.

They have their life.

Most of you don’t know me, and… I’m not sure I want you to.

Asaw Miller is not my given name, just encapsulates my ordinariness.

You will notice, most of my posts involve God.

Let’s be clear, I am not a theologian, never been to a bible college.

Sometimes wanted to, but the intricacies of theological debate?

They try my intellectual capacity, and my patience.

Secretly I would love to be proved clever.

But I know it has proved my undoing.

I have “leaned on my own understanding”

All I now know is my own fallibility, and Gods infallibility.

Yet He says, “I stand at the door and knock,

If anyone hears my voice and opens the door,

I will come in and dine with him, and he with me”

This is my breakfast, dinner and supper.

Seems to me the world has been mightily changed by men and women

of all shades of genuine belief in Christ and vocation.

I have no doubt, in some way, my own belief system is also flawed.

And yet, I hope, that in my ordinary journey through life.

I will be used in some way.

As I write my thoughts become clear to me.

Life’s journey takes on new meaning.

Maybe they will help you.

Your life is the most important thing in the world to you.

Let it become important to the world you live in.

God Bless