A couple of weeks ago, we went across town for a personal errand type of visit. When we came back, I had a message from my brother. He said our sister, Sim, had taken a turn for the worse. Very soon thereafter, it became clear Sim was on the very final leg of her journey.

Tears flowed. Intermittently. Sometimes they trickled, At other times, they gushed.

For the last two weeks, we have been on a sort of vigil. I had been on video chats with her, and the family has had video conferencing prayers with her. Each time, I fought back the tears. There was serious risk of a breach of that sorry fort/dyke that would see more gush than trickle.

This morning, my brother messaged me again. We then talked briefly on the phone. I said to Tress it would be hours, maybe a day or two at the most, before Sim made her away ahead of us. Tears welled up inside me, and I kept busy with stuff, to stick a finger in that dyke to stem the flow, a la the little brave dutch kid. I hate tears.

Shortly before 1pm (here in Melbourne), my brother messaged me again. Sim has gone ahead of us. She had stolen a march on us, to claim that new body that we’re promised. That is so unlike her.

Sim would never steal a march on any one of us of her three siblings. She is a giver, never a taker. How the world can learn from her in that regard. But in this quest to claim that new body, she’s gone one up on us.

I wasn’t able to keep playing the role of that brave little dutch boy. The dyke was breached, and the tears flowed. I cried. I wept. I loved her. I had prayed for a miracle. I had said to colleagues in passing, that like ScoMo, I too believed in miracles. I asked for one for Sim. Because, if anyone deserved a miracle, Sim did.

I don’t know which of my three other siblings is the best person (I know I’d come last in that race) My brother is a terrific person, and Mei my other sister is a gem too. But I’d give Sim the shortest odd. Actually she’d win that one hands down. Tress certainly thinks so. Sim, you’re the best person among the four of us. You’re also up there as one of the best persons I know. Like I said, you’re a giver.

Sim, you seemed to have always said the right things. A lot. It always sounded good when you say it. You say good things about others all the time. And, I think it sounds so good all the time because it always sounded like you meant it. You’re so kind, and generous that way.

Sim, I never told you this but I wished I was more like you. That’s so hard because you’re way up there as one of the best persons I had ever known.

Those tears. They’re flowing again now. They’re like the rain in Melbourne not too long ago. That rain didn’t stop for a while. The tears, like them rain, made things feel dark and cold and hopeless. Those tears. They keep coming. It doesn’t help that I cannot be on my way to be there for your final terrestrial journey. Damned virus.

Sim, you stole a march on us. But our Lord said we’d catch up. I hope by the time I do, I’d be as good a person as you have been. I love you my little sister. Goodbye for now.

After nearly 3 months of having our lives tossed around, we finally started to creep out for some normality, over this past long weekend. My thoughts about the monarchy are a little bit schizophrenic but at times like this, I’m glad we get to celebrate the Queen’s birthday and have a long weekend.

We went to Alex and Li Har’s on Friday night and caught up with them over dinner. They had Gerry & Jesslyn (and their two girls) and Jason and Mel along so it was really nice. Li Har’s mum had passed away a few days earlier and we weren’t sure if Li Har would be up for a catch up but she said she’d like to see us and I was very happy we could all catch up. It was our first social get together since the pandemic shutdown happened so it was a little bit special.

On Saturday, we slept in, and cleaned the house again before heading out for lunch at the local shopping centre. Cafes and restaurants had started up again, with limited seating, and it felt like normality has returned, in some ways. We went to a Chinese hot pot place, as Tress wanted some soupy stuff to stave off the cold, presumably. Later that arvo we took the little guy for a walk.

On Sunday we did our usual St Alf online thing after which we pottered around the house while we waited to do a video conference call with Sim. My brother, his wife and our mum were to leave Penang later that day, having spent a week with Sim up there. I was very grateful to have been able to see and talk to Sim and everyone again, and not for the first time, I found myself being appreciative for the serendipitous aspect of the pandemic. Zoom calls have become so normal and I have been able to see and speak with her and the family much more easily as a result. After that call, we had wanted to return to the hot pot place again but there was a long line waiting to get in so we got some roti from across the street instead. We then did some grocery shopping before returning home to take the little guy for a walk again.

Later that night we settled down to watch the Master Chef TV show and that led us to look for a pie joint the next day. We drove eastward, found a well known pie shop in Boronia, and then took a drive through Mount Dandenong before returning to Boronia for a pie lunch. We then went home, took the guy for a walk, and I then did some cooking for the week’s lunches. Tress and I had also teed up a getaway in several weeks, together with Kiddo and Mic. I’m really looking forward to that.

I drifted off to sleep last night, having shed a few more tears. I had just read a few messages from my brother who is in Penang with Sim.

I wonder why it is, that we only expressed our deepest feelings at the most dire moments. Earlier this arvo, I had a WhatsApp video call with Sim. I told her I loved her. She is my beautiful sister and I said to her, that I wished I could have given her a hug. My brother did that for me.

When I woke a little after 4am this morning, I found myself shedding a tear again. Just as I did after that video call. I really wished there wasn’t this damned pandemic that is preventing me from jumping on a plane to go see my sister again.

It feels like storms have surged around me. Or they’e just out there, wreaking damage on lives of many. What has transpired in the US, has been quite horrible. A man, George Floyd, was so badly treated by a member of the local police force that he died. A policeman has been charged for a “third degree” murder. George Floyd’s death has lit a fire that has spread widely and quickly. Dozens of cities in the US are now plagued with riots, looting and uprising.

On the home front, we received a call from my brother on Saturday afternoon. We were told that our sister Sim, who had been in the hospital for breathing difficulties, has been asked to go home. That sounded ominous and the implications of a cancer patient being told to go home was like a bolt of electric shock through me, that burst open the tear glands. I asked my brother what the prognosis was, as I wanted to explore the possibility of seeing Sim again. The virus has of course, stopped non essential international travel for several months now. Travel can still happen but it is bogged down with quarantine at every turn, so that a trip to Penang would entail a period of at least 28 days where I would be locked away somewhere. It was very frustrating.

We spent the rest of the weekend in a bit of a haze. The fog has not quite lifted as yet, but the week ahead will be busy none the less. Maybe it would do me good to focus on the busy work week ahead. It would take my thoughts away from dwelling on the sadness that otherwise eats away.

Yesterday, I received a photo that my brother sent me. Sim and him were together in the hospital. She had a smile of peace and strength that belies the circumstances. He looked tired but grateful to be there. He tells me Daniel, Sim’s husband, has been overwhelmed but the kids appear to be strong. My brother is there in Penang with them, along with Jean his wife and mum. I tried to call my mum on Saturday but couldn’t get through. I don’t know what I would have said if I did. Sometimes just talking – irrespective of what is being talked about – is enough, I guess.

I am still hopeful there will be time yet for me to see Sim again. I am very grateful Tress and I made a trip to Penang last November but I hope to see her again. That would be such a gift.

It has been 10 weeks since I started a work from home regime, a by-product of the virus that is wreaking havoc across the globe now. As I write, Brazil has caught up with America to be an epicenter of this dreadful pandemic.

One of the good things to have come out of the current tragedy, is that somehow, we have connected more with a few people. I have connected more with a neighbour, who only moved in because the pandemic put paid to the previous neighbour’s plan to sell the house and this new neighbour became their tenant. We have also connected with a young Malaysian family a few houses down the street. We have exchanged foods in recent weeks and it has been kind of fun. Most of all. we have connected more with family back in Malaysia.

Last Saturday, we took another Zoom meeting with the family. It was to pray for Sim. It was really good to have come together to pray for her, but it also pained me. To take in how much she has deteriorated since we met her in person end of last year, was painfully difficult. She is still up and about and very engaging in media like WhatsApp and Facebook but she now has difficulty breathing and sleeping has become a challenge. Doctors have advised another course of chemotherapy, which would start next week. The Lord knows how much I hope it would work this time.

I said to Tress last night, that I am so very grateful we got to spend some time with her and Daniel in November last year. We were only there for a few days but every moment we spent together meant our engagement with their lives was more than it would have been otherwise. This pandemic has meant we cannot travel as easily as we did then, and I really would have jumped on a plane first chance I get, to see her had we not been so restricted. Sarcoma sounds terrible but apparently, the prognosis may allow us to yet go and see her again. Who knows, our Lord who heals, may give the doctors really good knowledge when administering the chemo, and we may yet get to see her many more times.

The Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse recently released, unredacted, previously withheld sections of its report that touched on what George Pell knew. I waited for Gerard Henderson to respond to this, and he finally did in his usual Friday column in The Australian.

I am taking the liberty to reproduce his piece in full here, because it will always be necesary to rebut certain sections of the community who will persistently and unfairly tar Pell and we always need someone like Henderson to articulate why this is wrong.

https://www.theaustralian.com.au/inquirer/royal-commission-denies-george-pell-legal-justice/news-story/e9c47ace1f8b6ea8a0ad3fa0dd025038

Sections of both reports had been delayed pending the result of the outcome of the charges laid against Cardinal George Pell for historical child sexual abuse when he was archbishop of Melbourne in 1996 and 1997. On April 7, in a unanimous decision, the High Court quashed Pell’s conviction.

Many of Pell’s media critics, who were disappointed with his acquittal, looked forward to the release of the royal commission’s findings, which they expected to be hostile to Pell. They were not disappointed. Nor should they have expected to be, in view of the hostile reception Pell faced during his appearances before the royal commission comprising close to 20 hours — especially from counsel assisting Gail Furness SC.

Immediately after its release, Nine Entertainment’s Peter FitzSimons, a leading Pell antagonist, referred to the report as “a judgment”. No, it wasn’t. A royal commission is not a court of law. Moreover, in this instance, half of its members did not have legal qualifications.

Royal commissions make findings, not judgments. And their burden of proof is far lower than guilt beyond reasonable doubt. It’s closer to the balance of probabilities that prevails in civil cases.

In 1991, well before he became a judge and a royal commissioner, Peter McClellan wrote an article in the Current Issues in Criminal Justice journal in which he stated: “In recent years there has been an increasing trend in government to invoke royal commissions of inquiry to investigate particular problems.”

McClellan continued: “The frequency of such inquiries, and the sensational reporting which they have attracted, has tended to create a belief in some people that this is an appropriate method of handling any matter of public controversy. This is a view expressed by the press.” In 1991, McClellan held the view that “persons should only be convicted after due process in the relevant court”.

It’s a pity that, last week, so many members of the contemporary media dismissed McClellan’s warnings of three decades ago.

Anyone unfamiliar with the case would probably have assumed that Pell was primarily responsible for most of the historical cases of child sexual abuse in the Catholic Church. And that, if Pell had done his duty, the notorious Catholic pedophiles John Day (1904-78), Gerald Ridsdale and Edward Dowlan would have been arrested and convicted early into their offending. As a result, many of their victims would have been saved.

The fact is that Day’s sexual ­offending against children was known by Victoria Police in the early 1970s — but it did nothing. Born in 1941, Pell was a junior priest at the time.

The story of Denis Ryan, who was forced out of Victoria Police for investigating Day, is told in the book that he co-wrote with Peter Hoysted titled Unholy Trinity (Allen & Unwin, 2013).

Evidence before the royal commission indicates that Victoria Police was aware of Ridsdale’s criminality around 1975-76. Again, it did nothing. The royal commission found that in 1977 and in 1982, Pell — who was one of a number of consultors to bishop Ronald Mulkearns — was advised that Ridsdale was a pedophile.

There is no written or oral evidence to support this conclusion. In fact, what evidence there is indicates that Pell and his fellow consultors were not advised that Ridsdale was being moved from parish to parish because of pederasty. However, some of those present recall that Mulkearns referred to Ridsdale’s homosexuality, which would have been regarded as scandalous at the time.

Mulkearns was a dictatorial bishop (even for his day) who was secretive and who destroyed documents. The royal commission found that he advised Pell and others of Ridsdale’s crimes. Yet the same royal commission found that the bishop hid this information from many others, including cardinal Edward Clancy.

And then there’s the case of Timothy Green, who told the royal commission that in 1974 he advised Pell that Dowlan was ­assaulting boys. Pell does not recall this conversation, nor does the surviving witness. Moreover, Green says the whole exchange took place when he had his back to Pell. The royal commission did not believe Pell.

Journalist Paul Bongiorno was a Catholic priest in the Ballarat diocese in the early 1970s. One of Ridsdale’s victims, BPL, told the royal commission that he had informed Bongiorno about Ridsdale. Bongiorno advised in a statement that he had no recollection of any such conversation. The royal commission found that it could not resolve the differing ­accounts of PBL and Bongiorno. The latter was not called to give evidence, nor was PBL. The royal commission did not disbelieve Bongiorno.

The fact is that Pell was never in charge of a diocese or arch­diocese until he was appointed to Melbourne in 1996.

The royal commission downplays the fact Pell, when in a position of authority, was the first leader in the Catholic Church to establish a procedure to tackle clerical pedophilia.

His predecessor, archbishop Frank Little, had covered up the crimes of his clergy. Pell took action some six years before American newspaper The Boston Globe, in its Spotlight series, revealed clerical child abuse in the Boston archdiocese.

Nor did the royal commission give due consideration to the fact, soon after being appointed archbishop, Pell sacked two ­offending priests, Peter Searson and Wilfred Baker — the former, despite the Vatican’s instructions to the ­contrary.

Such facts are overlooked or downplayed by the royal commission. Meanwhile Pell is effectively condemned for his explanations, which the royal commission found to be inconceivable, implausible, untenable and so on. These are opinions.

In short, he has been effectively damned by the royal commission for (allegedly) protecting pedophilia in the face of McClellan’s 1991 warning that a person should be convicted only after due process in a relevant court. Pell ­received no such justice.

Gerard Henderson is executive director of the Sydney Institute. His Media Watch Dog blog can be found at www.theaustralian.com.au.

The weather over the weekend was really nice – sunny, no wind, practically balmy and nary a cloud to be seen.

We have also, at what feels like a really long last, been allowed more activities as restrictions of various kinds eased. I had wanted to take a drive to a beach just to take in the views etc., but Tress wasn’t keen so we ended up just going to the local shops and taking walks in nearby parklands.

Other than doing more cooks yesterday arvo, we didn’t do much else. I guess once you’re flattened by circumstances around you, it takes a little while to be lifted again.

Autumn ends in about 3 weeks. It felt however, like winter is already here. It rained again on Saturday, and it was cold too. Tress had a dentist appointment in the morning and when she left, I gave the little guy a bath. I tried to keep the water warm right through but the medicated shampoo we give him needed to be on him for at least 15 minute. The poor little guy was shivering at times and I patted, scratched, and cuddled him. He’s such a sweet dog.

Later in the arvo we picked up some lunch from somewhere in Knox, shared some of it with a new neighbour whom we met a couple of weeks ago and discovered were Malaysians, and then just pottered around. It’s that sort of lazy, gloomy, wet and cold day that just steals all manner of life from you. I haven’t felt so lousy on a Saturday for a very long time now. I ended up reading some material for the home group lead I was tasked with for the next time we meet. I don’t feel like it at all, but what do you do when you’re in a group and you have to make some form of contribution, and not just receive all the time.

Sunday was Mother’s Day so I cooked Tress a brekky. I sent out some messages on some of the chat groups I’m in, and then as we have our second coffee, we watched the St Alf online service. Peter spoke about Jesus being tempted by the devil. He ended his talk with a little exchange with Mike Bird, a respected theologian. It was about how Jesus divinity did not stop his being tempted. Heb 4 was cited. I guess it was a touch timely, as although I’m not in a space where being tempted is an issue, the sense of being tired, of being edgy is, I tell myself, a very human experience. Jesus surely felt that way too, when he was on earth as a human. I guess that provided some solace.

We spent the rest of the arvo doing our usual things. We picked up lunch from Doncaster somewhere, did some shopping and later in the day I cooked some of the week’s lunches.

I have a couple of meetings lined up today – meetings I do not feel like calling in for. I’m feeling the proverbial Gump tiredness but going home isn’t going to be the remedy I’m looking for. Not while all around me, and I, are being ravaged by ripples of the Wuhan Virus.

It was cold and (very) wet on the second half of last week. It made the enforced home stay even more grim. We made it through however, and Week 7 of working from home has started to make me feel really flat.

To stay sane and anchored, Tress and I had a lovely home cooked meal on Friday night. Beautifully steamed salmon fillets bathed in a Nyonya sauce,  warmed us well. On Saturday, after our usual weekend breakfast, we did some cleaning. We normally have proper coffee (from the espresso machine) on weekend mornings, together with Tress’ wonderful poached eggs on avocado on toasts. It meant we both had a routine to stick with – a sense of structure in a world that has otherwise lost many useful boundaries – as well as having a good breakfast.

After brekky Tress vacuumed the house and cleaned the toilets. I cleaned a few kitchen drawers, and the fridge. It was good to then spend the rest of the weekend in a clean house and every time we opened the fridge, it felt good too, to see the clean shelves and racks.

The northern states have started to ease up restrictions – people are swarming beaches and parks again. Last night, we went to a local shopping center to pick up a pair of home slippers for me and the shops were really busy. It felt like people are getting restless and maybe also a bit more positive and less fearful.

St Alf’s online is starting to feel more normal too, which isn’t great. Attending the services in track pants, coffee in hand, and wandering in and out of the kitchen or toilet, didn’t feel right but the usual boundaries have been removed and the result is a dispersed, diluted and unfocused service. Thankfully, my continuing note taking habits allowed me to retain parts of Mark Simon’s talk better than if I abandoned  that practice too. A large chunk of the text was on Jesus’ genealogy and I picked up numerous tips on how to read those Hebrew names in greater style, from Tim Dehn the reader. He’s always great value in delivering high performing skills in this space.

I start Week 8 of working from home, with annoying sniffles. I guess that is a good thing about having to stay at home. My sniffles would have annoyed more than just Tress and I, had I been on a train or in the office.

It was Anzac Day last Saturday. Usually, Tress and I would just enjoy the day off, and follow some of the services on TV. This year however, we decided to join in the commemoration by doing the “end of driveway” thing. So we got up a bit after 5.30am, went out to the end of our driveway, and thought about all those who had fought for Australia in numerous wars, but particularly at Gallipoli. It was heart warming to see, on our streets, numerous homes doing the same thing. We all had candles (ours is a virtual one on our phone), listened to The Ode and then the Last Post. A little while later, we went back in, and followed proceedings on TV.

Later in the day, I jumped on YouTube and watched a few videos to remind myself of what went on at Gallipoli in 1915. It was a massacre but out of that awful event, Australia’s identity as a nation took shape. ScoMo the PM said Anzac Day is a sacred day for all Australians  – how right he is.

It was a restful weekend. Funny that the idea of rest features when we’re at home for the most part. Other than a very quick trip to the shops late Friday arvo, the only other time we left home was late on Sat morning when Tress and I drove to South Yarra to pick up a little piece of furniture. Since we switched to the NBN, I had wanted to get something to house all those additional equipment (2 modems, heaps of cable and power board) so that they all don’t just sit haphazardly in the corner of our dining room. I finally found a nice wooden piece and picked it up on Sat morning.

It had been a wet weekend again too, so we did the usual stuff at home. We also celebrated little Micah’s birthday via online video conferencing. Loads of people called and it looked like a decent substitute for a proper party up at Woodend.

Late yesterday arvo, just after 6pm, Tress and I downloaded the “COVID Safe” app on our phones. It’s the contact tracing app designed to track down persons who have had contact with someone who’s contracted the virus. We hope this is something that will expedite our return to life before COVID. This morning, the Queensland Premier confirmed what was reported last night – Queenslanders will have some restrictions eased up from this Friday (1 May). Victoria appears to still be in locked down mode until at least 12 May, but I sincerely hope we can follow in Queensland’s steps. Soon.