Last night the son of the Maori family over the road died of a heart attack in town.
He had been seriously injured in a motorbike accident a fair while ago, and had taught himself to walk again.
I saw him and his wife walking to town and back many times, and talked to his wife a couple of times. There was always a smile and a wave.
This morning friends and relations were with the family, sitting and talking on the deck. Usually the body of the departed is in the house for friends and relatives to say farewell, I don't know if he was there.
We gave them a small gift and expressed our condolences.
It brought back memories of losing my Mountain Man, and we exchanged hugs.
A sad loss to good people.