I’m sure some will think this is inappropriately personal, but it’s my blog and I’ll write what I want to.
Looking at Howard’s and Niall’s blogs, I was sad to hear the news that Lex de Haan’s illness has worsened. I knew he was ill because he couldn’t make the Scottish OUG Conference and was only able to attend part of the UKOUG conference but I was hoping he’d recover. Having said that, I don’t know Lex at all (even to say hello to) but I can still admire his contribution to the Oracle community, which is unlikely to be forgotten. In the end, I feel bad for any human being in bad health and their family and friends.
It was strange to read the news this week as well, because I’d been considering a blog about someone else that none of you know.
Joe Burns, my Dad, died four years ago tomorrow. I don’t think I’ll ever fully get over the fact that I won’t be able to speak to him again, but time softens some of the emotions. When I was younger he was a hard, scary man but, as I got older, we became a lot closer and I realised just how much I owed him and came to appreciate his strength, decency, integrity and his sense of humour. He was truly unique and left an impression on everyone who met him. Him and my Mum were inseperable (well, it turns out that was wrong) and the hole he left is a deep and wide one.
I’ve hinted to a few people that there were a couple of difficult years there when Oracle conferences and the like couldn’t be further from my mind and that was the reason. Funnily enough, I must be one of the few people with a Dad who attended an Oracle conference! Because I was already a member and my registration was free as a speaker, I had a spare free place going for UKOUG 2000. I asked him if he wanted to go to see me present because he was very proud of his children. He didn’t drink or socialise, so his world revolved around his family, football and his job. He was delighted and took a trip down with me and my mum. He saw me speak and, although it might seem a bit weird to have your Dad there (!), you can imagine how glad I am now that I asked him. He was very proud.
He came from a very limited, poor background but he made something of himself and his family through his own efforts and good will. Of course, his death (just after retirement) was ultimately his own fault because he’d smoked pretty heavily his whole life. Do I wish he hadn’t and I could have had him around for another 10 years? Sure. But then he would have been someone else and I’m proud of who he was.
Of course, death is inevitable but his was sudden and I wasn’t there. I would swap every material possession for a couple of moments with him. Anyone who has been through a similar experience will understand. For those of you who haven’t been through the experience yet, my heart goes out to you when it does. But I can assure you that things do get better.
I wish I had the faith that my Dad continued somewhere else, but I’ll settle for the presence he left inside those who knew him forever. He was genuinely one of the greatest men I’ve met.
My warmest wishes go to Lex’s friends and family. We can only hope for the best.
Normal service will be resumed shortly.
There’s nothing inappropriate about that at all. It was beautifully put, and says it better than I ever could.
Thanks Howard. For some reason I woke up this morning dreading what comments might be here when I looked, but I needn’t have worried. A friend also emailed me to let me know it looked okay.
Of course, there were other less cheerful emails to balance it all out but that’s for another time.
Thanks again.
Agreed, Howard. It was nicely put.
Juliette, Lex’ wife, just told me a few minutes ago, that Lex had repeatedly said 1-2-6 in the days before he died. He died, of course, first of February, 06.
It was a riddle. His oldest daughter solved it last night while getting slightly drunk in a bar in Utrecht: It’s three times 42, of course.
Of course Lex left us with a riddle. And the answer was of course 42.
My wife, Anette, by the way just woke up and told me EXACTLY the same. She has been “talking” to Lex again in her dreams and had explained the 3 x 42 to her. I must be going slightly mad.
Lex is gone.
Our country is covered with beautiful white fog frost.
For what it’s worth, I wrote the blog without the knowledge that Lex had died yesterday, although I knew he was very ill. I’d been thinking about it on the way into work and between thinking about it and writing it, he was gone.
Mogens, that’s weird stuff indeed.
But I’ll say no more about Lex – that’s for those of you who knew him and I’m sure will have plenty to say over the coming days.
Cheers,
Doug
When you have something that you must write from the heart, you write it. Some will get it , some won’t. The ones who do will empathize with your statements, the ones who don’t will likely criticize.
I didn’t know Lex either, but from several postings I have read over the last few days I was very moved by the whole situation. My condolences and deepest sympathies to his family and friends.
There’s nothing wrong with being personable Doug – in fact, it is refreshing. 😄