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This past year has been a strange time for our family and friends. My sister-in-law's mother dies and my boss has a daughter. A colleague's mother and wife both die within a month while another sister-in-law announces she is expecting a child.

Quite apart from the fact that all these arrivals and departures have involved women I am struck by our own mortality and wonder what the point of life is.

To try and make some sense of it I am writing a letter to myself about where I came from to try and define who I am as a person and why do things I do.

Back in November we had Remembrance day for all those who died during conflict. While I do not know of a relative to die in battle it has made me think about the lives of my parents and my grandparents before them.

My mother and father are in their mid-seventies with arthritis and a heart condition respectively. It sounds incredible to think this way that I hope my mother goes before my father because he is in generally better shape and my mother needs a lot of care.

I think about the times that seem so recent where they were off here, there and everywhere doing stuff but now it's clear they are slowing down almost getting ready for when the receive the final 'call'. It's hard to get your head round.

All my grandparents were idols of mine.

My paternal grandfather died in 1980 and I adored him without ever really knowing why. I was 11 when he passed away and by then he could barely speak. I can't remember his voice but only his croaky grunts and while that sounds harsh that was the truth of the matter.

Dad used to tell some great stories about him and he was clearly a real character. Little eccentricities like opening his front door with his hat on because he was self-conscious of his baldness.

Grandma died two years later and this was the first death to really hit me hard. She was a wonderful, WONDERFUL woman. A true lady who would do absolutely anything for her family.

My Nanna and Grandpop lived opposite our place in a huge gabled house which was perfectly framed by our living room window. They had it built once they were married in 1933 for 650 but after they'd passed away a developer bought it and three months later sold it again having done nothing to it making an extra 20,000 profit or $40,000 today in US Dollars. That really hurt.

I guess this was largely due to both my mother and aunt being born in that house and having other people living there feels like trespass. Life goes on but after 30 years

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