The Henson Journals

[329]

Saturday, June 5th, 1926.

[Today it is arranged that I leave this Nursing Home, and return to Auckland. For nearly four weeks I have lain in bed, ministered to in every kind of way by nurses, & reduced to an impotence for which my life hardly provides any precedent. I have read much, mostly Trollope's Novels, Von Ranke's History of the Popes, & the inevitable & incomparable Sir Walter. What permanent effect will this experience have on me, and on my life? To have been brought suddenly into the very presence of Death, & then recalled to activity & the promise of strength must have some continuing consequences. But what will they be? The worthlessness of sick–bed reformations has become proverbial. Is it some vice of incorrigible frivolity in me that already seems to be restoring all the old vain interests and sentiments? Or, is it that at 63 the very power to change has been lost?

Truly Life's chains are strong to bind

From youth to age, from birth to death

Body and Mind.

Some such lines as these by I know not what poet run in my head. "Call to remembrance, O Lord, thy tender mercies: thy loving–kindnesses, which have been ever of old. O remember not the sins & offences of my youth: but according to thy mercy think thou upon me, O Lord, for thy goodness."]

[330]

I bade an affectionately grateful farewell to the Night Nurse, who has really looked after me with wonderful kindness & patience. She hopes to be married next year, and I promised to perform the ceremony, if I could possibly do so. At present I am in the mood to promise anything: how long shall I retain the smallest interest in these good people, to whom unquestionably I owe much & invaluable service? It is humiliating to realize how shallow & untrustworthy one is.

The morning passed in preparing for my exodus, and in affectionate farewells to the Matron & Nurses. They have been so kind & attentive that I was really sorry to part from them, (though infinitely glad to escape from the dingy daily outlook of slate roofs) and I flatter myself that they were sorry to part from me. What a magic lies in service! What secrets of fellowship lurk beneath the unattractive garb of dependence! Shortly after noon the car arrived with Lionel & Alexander. The day was glorious & without wind, so I could have the car open, and take in the interest & beauty of the drive to Auckland. I was received with decent enthusiasm by my wife & household, with whom was McCullogh. Before retiring to bed as Turner had commanded, I insisted on being carried to Butler's Walk and through the Bowling Green. Everything was ravishingly beautiful. And so that Chapter was closed.

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