The foulest..

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is "foul". For most people this would foster thoughts of disgusting smells or messes. For me the first word that popped into my head was cancer. It is a foul, tragic and painful disease to suffer from and an even more terrible disease to die from. It is malicious, angry and dangerous. We can transmit our writings to the entire world through the Internet, travel to the moon and back, cure multiple ailments and diseases, control electricity and water for our own benefit and yet we are powerless when it comes to cancer. Cancer is foul, cancer fills me with rage.

In 1956 a young couple and their three children traveled across the world in search of a better future. The journey from a cold Dutch winter to a sweltering Australian summer was long and especially frightening for the youngest of the children, a beautiful blonde three year old called Judy. Many years later, I would know her as Mum.

The family consisted of Harry & Lydia and their children Matilda, Louise and Judy. On their arrival they began living in an immigration hostel inside large semi-circle shaped corrugated iron sheds. The heat was unbearable and as soon as Harry & Lydia had jobs they moved into a small run down apartment in a poor area of Melbourne where they stayed for many years.

Harry & Lydia had been children during the Second World War. They had experience severe hardship and despair during the early years of their lives. They had met as young teens and Harry had stood Lydia up for their first date due to falling asleep in his armchair. They married only a year after meeting and began having their children not long after.

A mechanic by trade, Harry found it difficult to find work with his heavy accent and strained English. Eventually though, through lots of perseverance and hard work Harry & Lydia opened their own Petrol Station. Lydia worked on the cash register, Harry used his Mechanic skills to run the workshop and their now teenaged daughters manned the fuel pumps.

Many years later and after become grandparents five times over Harry & Lydia settled down to enjoy their lives together. In the early 90's Harry was diagnosed with bladder cancer and a few years later with prostate cancer. Though these incidents were frightening for all involved he recovered from his treatment well and continued his life. Harry & Lydia traveled and did alot of camping together and with their grandchildren.

In late 2001 Harry was diagnosed with lung cancer. His doctors & family had doubts about his prognosis but he pulled through once again and went on to enjoy another fourteen healthy months of life. In 2002 Harry was sadly diagnosed with a secondary cancer of the brain, he endured a six hour operation and two rounds of chemotherapy only to have the cancer return in another area of the brain months later. Subsequent operations followed and again the cancer had returned.

Harry endured alot of suffering during his final years. He lost his independence and his ability to use his hands to build and create the beautiful dolls houses and other children’s toys he loved so much, there was no more traveling with his wife and family and eventually became bed ridden with nausea and pain.

During his final year he refused to stay in the hospital for fear of dying away from home. Hospice nurses visited regularly and his youngest daughter, Judy, spend many nights and days by his bedside. In the beginning she helped him to the toilet, soon after she had to hold him upright while sitting and eventually she changed his nappies.

I was heavily pregnant. At the end of October, 2006 I visited Harry at his home. He sat in his armchair and we spoke about my impending arrival and I showed him pictures from my latest scan, he told me he thought we were having a little boy. Exactly one week later I went to visit him again. My dear grandpa was nothing but a shell of the full of life and loving person he once was. I sat by him and held his hand, he never looked at me, he wouldn’t squeeze my hand, I'm not sure he even knew who we were anymore. He was thin and had started refusing all liquids, the thought of that last image of him haunts me, it was as if the life had been drained from him. That night, Harry passed away quietly in the arms of his life long partner Lydia. Do not be confused; his passing was not as peaceful as it may sound. It was excruciatingly painful and his last days were unimaginably horrible.

My dearest Grandpa,
It's been over a year Oompa. We miss you.
All my love. x

Henrikus van Susteren.
1929 - 2006