Georgie back in New Zealand

I returned to London on Friday after two weeks in New Zealand.

Dad was admitted to Palmerston North hospital within a day of my arrival. After a few uncertain days, he came back home to Masterton and appeared to have stabilised when I left.

But things changed quickly over the weekend: my dad died today at home.

I'm flying back for his funeral this week, which will be held at St Patricks's Parish Church, Queen St, Masterton at 10am on Friday. My father never did things by half: a cardinal, bishop and a two priests will take the Requiem Mass.

Jonathan and I would like to thank everyone for their support during this time.

Love, Georgie.

From Milan to Masterton

Last month work took me to Milan for a couple of days. Milan! In between meetings - and pinching myself - I had a chance to visit the city's magnificent Duomo Cathedral, the world's largest Gothic cathedral. Its limestone spires are intricately iced with sculptures, and the whole confection resembles an old-fashioned tiered wedding cake. Inside was no less impressive. The church is so cavernous that when a choir started up there was no telling where the disembodied voices were coming from.

Just across the way is a beautiful shopping mall called the Galleria Vittorio Emmanuele II. It's a perfect spot for having a long lunch and watching the tourists and fashionistas tow their shopping bags around. Talk about La Dolce Vita - I had the time of my life in Milan.

Mamma mia! Three pizza and pasta fuelled days were beginning to show on my expanding waistline. I arrived back in London and promised to get more active. The next day I bought a bike to cycle to work (the ride takes 50 minutes each way and I love it!) and the day after that Jonathan and I joined friends on a ramble through the Hever countryside in Kent. Harry was our chief navigator through Anne Boleyn's old 'hood, and we were joined by Cathy and Nils.


I've spent the last couple of weeks back in New Zealand visiting my family. It's been really tough for me to be so far away from my family since my dad's cancer was diagnosed in December.

Things took a decidedly grim turn while I was there. Dad was admitted to Palmerston North hospital within a couple of days of my arrival. After a few uncertain days, he came back home to Masterton and appeared to have stabilised when I left for London on Thursday.

During one of our discussions, dad quoted Wittgenstein to me: "The limits of my language mean the limits of my world." We were talking about at times like this words fail us. I certainly couldn't express how I felt when I had to say goodbye.