Rest in Peace Andrew E Wade.
You were, and are, loved by many. You will be remembered for all the
good things you did with your life, the wonderful care, love and
companionship you gave to our darling Rosemary Nissen-Wade, your hospitality, your humour, your questing mind, and curiosity about the world. Blessings to you. — Satya Helen Patrice
5/9/13
Dear Rosemary, Thank you so much for the message. My loving energy goes to you. This is for you and Andrew. Like all, I too will miss the 'Squire'. Yet, I am blessed with many, many wonderful memories. The beautiful flowers from the 'Pilbara' region ... Love and Joy, James
12/9/13
Dear Rosemary, my love and blessings to you as you journey with Andrew's passing - thank you for letting me know. A strong rainbow bridge built between worlds as he travels, and your Light remains stabilised here - what a gift for the Universe! Love and Blessings Dear Heart, Val x x x
14/9/13
The ceremony and sharing for Andrew's departure was profound. I think it is the first time I have attended a funeral other than Thailand and Nepal where it is considered liberation to leave the body. He has left a trail of enlightened beings. Love Kay
16/9/13
Andrew Wade was the most unusual of men and I adored him.
I enjoyed Friday writing sessions with him, and missed him heaps when he wasn’t well enough to come. I loved it when he read his work - I doubt anyone could imbue a war story with more compassion than Andrew did. And, he was fun and funny!
I came from an abusive marriage years ago, so I was fascinated by the fact that he was SO comfortable in his masculinity he was able to show care and compassion and love for those around him, whilst still being a "bloke". Andrew was one of only two men in my life that I would hold up to my boys as an example of how a “real” man ought to behave.
So no, he was not your average bloke.
When I was diagnosed with metastasized cancer I would get phone calls on my mobile that would include no preamble: no, "hi, this is Andrew." Rather, “What about so and so…?”or, "I've had another thought..." and go on to tell me about the possible natural treatment he'd thought might help, or a new age 'something' he'd just remembered might help get me through the chemo symptoms. Each time this happened it brightened my day heaps and now and then, when I tried them, they were a great help.
Then there was the day when things looked very bleak indeed, and I answered the phone to, “I was thinking of you, and wanted to make sure you were okay.” Way to go on the ESP, Andrew – you saved my butt that day!
And of course, he was always telling me to remain positive. And I did - and I’m well again. And I only wish he were, too. Words are so useless at times, so let’s just go with - I’m really going to miss you, Andrew. Lots of love, Cheryl
I came from an abusive marriage years ago, so I was fascinated by the fact that he was SO comfortable in his masculinity he was able to show care and compassion and love for those around him, whilst still being a "bloke". Andrew was one of only two men in my life that I would hold up to my boys as an example of how a “real” man ought to behave.
So no, he was not your average bloke.
When I was diagnosed with metastasized cancer I would get phone calls on my mobile that would include no preamble: no, "hi, this is Andrew." Rather, “What about so and so…?”or, "I've had another thought..." and go on to tell me about the possible natural treatment he'd thought might help, or a new age 'something' he'd just remembered might help get me through the chemo symptoms. Each time this happened it brightened my day heaps and now and then, when I tried them, they were a great help.
Then there was the day when things looked very bleak indeed, and I answered the phone to, “I was thinking of you, and wanted to make sure you were okay.” Way to go on the ESP, Andrew – you saved my butt that day!
And of course, he was always telling me to remain positive. And I did - and I’m well again. And I only wish he were, too. Words are so useless at times, so let’s just go with - I’m really going to miss you, Andrew. Lots of love, Cheryl
16/11/12
Hi Dad,
It feels slightly silly communicating with you because you're not here any longer, but if it is true that there does exist another life when we die then maybe it’s not so silly.
If it wasn't for you, I don’t think I would be who I am. You are the reason why I believe there is a more spiritual and progressive way of thinking. You are the reason that inspired me to look inside and believe in myself.
Mum was the pragmatic one, the one who for a lot of my growing up refused to believe there is a God or a God energy . If you had not been around I think I would have been a different person.
I just want you to know that you were a great dad. Someone who although wasn't the regular father figure, you always tried to inspire Duncan, Adam and I.
We all love you so much. You are an inspiration and you have left a gap in the world. We were lucky to have you as a dad and I know for every step I took, you were there like a guardian angel, helping me along the way. When there was a fork in the road or I was going through a rough patch, you were there gently encouraging me to take a path that allowed me to grow and become a better person.
You are still my inspiration,
Love you dad forever, CC xxxxxxx
2/2/13 Posted by Rosemary
This was Andrew E Wade, and then some!
"To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch . . . to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded!"
~Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882), American essayist, lecturer, and poet, who led the Transcendentalist movement of the mid-19th century
~Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882), American essayist, lecturer, and poet, who led the Transcendentalist movement of the mid-19th century
4/2/13 (Andrew's birthday) Posted by Rosemary
I have just finished reading a book about death, a beautiful book called The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak. It is narrated by Death — who, in the book, is quite a decent bloke. At one point he remarks that a difference between humans and himself is that humans have the good sense to die.
Today would have been my dearest's 84th birthday. But he died when he was still 83. Eight and three make 11, the number of mastery. And he had mastered his life by its end. He had mellowed considerably from the lovable but exasperating little dynamo he so often used to be. He had absolutely entered into unconditional love. Sometimes, from dementia, he was like a child. But it was a light dementia, and even at his most confused moments he knew how to be loving, and was most concerned that I should know I was loved. (I did know. I do know.) He was like that in his many lucid moments, too.
He had the good sense to die just at the point where his body stopped working. Up until then, although he had pain and frailty, limitations and frustrations, his quality of life outweighed its drawbacks. He died just at the point where it was going to become the other way about.
He was a great communicator during his life, and since his death he has been in communication with those who are able to perceive it. So we know that he is busy and happy, interested and engaged as always. Resting in peace? Not exactly. But his earthly troubles are over. He lived a long life, experienced joy and adventure, and contributed a lot to the wellbeing of others.
I miss him like hell, remember him well, and cannot wish that he had lingered longer. I was very lucky to be with him for those 20 brilliant years.
Rosemary a beautiful commentary on Andrew's life well lived and loved, including his total love and commitment to you x.x.x. — Marg Watson
Today would have been my dearest's 84th birthday. But he died when he was still 83. Eight and three make 11, the number of mastery. And he had mastered his life by its end. He had mellowed considerably from the lovable but exasperating little dynamo he so often used to be. He had absolutely entered into unconditional love. Sometimes, from dementia, he was like a child. But it was a light dementia, and even at his most confused moments he knew how to be loving, and was most concerned that I should know I was loved. (I did know. I do know.) He was like that in his many lucid moments, too.
He had the good sense to die just at the point where his body stopped working. Up until then, although he had pain and frailty, limitations and frustrations, his quality of life outweighed its drawbacks. He died just at the point where it was going to become the other way about.
He was a great communicator during his life, and since his death he has been in communication with those who are able to perceive it. So we know that he is busy and happy, interested and engaged as always. Resting in peace? Not exactly. But his earthly troubles are over. He lived a long life, experienced joy and adventure, and contributed a lot to the wellbeing of others.
I miss him like hell, remember him well, and cannot wish that he had lingered longer. I was very lucky to be with him for those 20 brilliant years.
Rosemary a beautiful commentary on Andrew's life well lived and loved, including his total love and commitment to you x.x.x. — Marg Watson
Beautiful Words Rosemary....full of love and light....I remember his restlessly enthusiastic spirit seeking seeking seeking....questioning and wondering....ready to appreciate and value others....and I remember your first years together. Wishing you all the best and sending you love on this day which still remains his birthday even though he has moved on....Lots of Love Ursula
Thank you again for allowing us into your world beautiful woman... BIG Hugs to you and to Andrew... a stunning Man. — Katherine Cunningham
I feel blessed to have always felt loved by Andrew also. And the Book Thief is among my all-time fav books, with sentences so beautiful they made me cry with joy. — Shae Brown
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