The sads

I had a case of the sads yesterday. At times I wonder if I should have had a couple of sessions of grief counselling in  the months following Ray's death. Mostly I am fine, but sometimes things trigger me to have a sad day, and it should not be the day after a great birthday.

This morning it was after reading JayCee's post about receiving a new passport. You'll have to introduce yourself to her if you don't already read her blog. Her post spurred me to take a look at Ray's passports. Here is a photo of his English passports, correctly called United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. 

The first two have a very solid hard cardboard cover, like a hardback book. He left Australia twice before he became an Australian citizen, once to England with a Singapore stopover and once to Bali in Indonesia, so there are stamps from those various countries, along with the important permission to return to Australia stamps, even though he was permanent resident.

Once he became an Australian citizen, that was no longer necessary. With hindsight, what a waste of money the last passport was, not used having arrived in February a few months before he died. Note the change to the European Union after the hardcover passports,  and then the disappearance of Europe post Brexit.  

And here are his Australian passports. They look progressively more modern, with the third one dabbling with a silver coat of arms, but then returning to gold in the last. You may wonder about why the need for both? While there were advantages to him by using his English passport, the advantage disappeared as he had to wait for me with my Australian passport at any point we crossed secure borders. 

He was cross questioned at Belgium's Midi Station after we arrived by Thalys from Amsterdam and changed to Eurostar for London. He was asked why he was travelling on an Australian passport when he had an English one (the immigration person knew he had an English passport). He explained it was because of me using my Australian passport and there being no advantage, and then the official asked why we weren't together. I don't remember why we weren't, and I've no idea why it might have been a concern. Ray was not my keeper. 

The reason he kept his English passport was that he could return to England to live if he wanted, and by default, I could live there too. We did even think about it a couple of times, but my family being here made it a non starter.

So yes, his optimism in February 2024 to get a new ten year English passport and dying two months later made me feel sad.

But there was more. I don't think it was until the 1980s where we first saw the English tv series 7Up in Australia, and I expect soon after we would have seen 14Up. Every seven years we would tune in to watch the next in the series and this year it was time for 70Up. I thought it was excellent, although I've yet to watch the second part. In its early days, questions were asked and presentation decisions were made that now would not pass the sniff test, and 70Up seemed to recognise this. The show is quite sad at times.

Even if you've never seen the former episodes, and they are available to see in Australia, just watching 70Up includes enough of the older series for it to all make sense. In Australia you can see the programme at SBS On Demand, but I think just watching 70Up is enough. Apparently there won't be a 77Up, which is a shame, and who knows if I will live to my mid seventies. Ray did, but no longer. We would have enjoyed watching 70Up together very much.