Don't know whether this is a vent, asking for advice, or just dumping stuff out there that I've been mulling over for 12 months...12 months ago next weekend, everything turned to whoop. Daughter was performing down in Sydney at "School Spectacular", and my then partner (now wife) was down with her as a parent helper for three days...Son and I "bached it", I had a couple days off, so I could drop him off, do stuff and be home when he walked home from school...belt tennis balls up the back lane (lose them and discover advanced retrieval techniques), BBQ ribs over charcoal, watch old lost in space B&W videos. Saturday morning, 30th November, we hopped in the Nissan, and drove down to the big smoke to pick the women folk up...we would get there in time for a light dinner before their final performance, and drive them and a friend's kid home...Sunday was to be another big day, it was the rite of passage school camp where grade 5 kids all go to an island camp for a week...bus left at 6AM, 5 hours home and our daughter was to be off on another adventure. On the way down to get them, my phone was in and out of reception, but when we got down the mountains, and reception improved, multiple missed call, and multiple messages from my brother, frantic. Found a spot to park, phone message bank tag for about 5 minutes. Dad had taken his .22 out to the shed while my Mum was in the shower, and suicided...not quite successfully, as he was on life support, and fading...family wanted me there...would have had to dump partner and kids in Sydney, not going to happen (4 hours by car, 8 by other means), so suggested that he never wanted to be on life support, had intentionally gone down that path, and so to respect both of his wishes, let him go. Drove into Sydney, couldn't blurt out to all and sundry what was going down, especially when daughter comes up with a phone message Grandad had sent here telling her how great she was, and he was going to watch her on TV tonight...knees nearly buckled at that...found a quiet spot and explained to my partner what was going down. He passed around 18:30 that evening... Now's where the problems took root. Didn't tell the children. Daughter, we loaded onto her bus for her school camp, waved goodbye, then came home, explained to our son what was going on (just that Grandma found Grandad collapsed in the shed, and the doctors couldn't save him)...then drove down to be with family and help with arrangements. Drove home to pick up daughter from camp, cooked here her favourite welcome home dinner, then crushed her world with news that we were packing up and going to Grandma's for a funeral. Being a smart kid, she worked out that he'd died before she went to camp, and was royally peeved. Year on, another school camp, big one to nation's capital, and Mum wants to inter Dad's ashes on his birthday...last day of camp...camp is in same city as Parents', so we have to make arrangements to pick her up from camp rather than when bus gets back. Completed successfully, but apparently daughter, who knew the arrangements was quite upset day of the pick-up, as she knew we were travelling, mission required timing to be just right, and the British PM talked for too long while they were at Parliament House...not a melt down, just teachers noticed anxiety, and offered re-assurance, and rang to see that we were on track. That was last weekend, and we pulled it off. Next weekend is School spectacular again, and daughter and wife are going to be there. Son and I are baching again for a couple of days, and we'll drive down to pick them up after it. And, as it turns out, my children are scared silently witless that another boot is going to drop. Like I said, not sure whether this is a vent, a request for advice, or just dumping it there.