Living so far away from where I grew up and where all my family is, sometimes the very fact of my youth feels like a dream. When I took a side step out of my routine to go to New Zealand for five days for Sandra's funeral, the intensity of it all both increased that dreamtime feel, and also brought me crashing back into who I am.
So much happened it feels like I was gone for much longer. There's no way I can tell you it all, so here's a quick snapshot from each day. I'm mostly leaving out anything specific about Sandra for now, but rest assured, there was a lot of it.
Thursday:
Peter took us to Martin's Bay, Sandra's favorite beach, at the tip of the Mahurangi peninsula. Towards the end, when she could no longer walk, Sandra and Peter would get coffees from up the road then drive down here and sit in the car watching the ocean. It is a long wide sandy expanse lined with mature pohutukawa trees, nestled between two bush clad cliffs, with a campground at one end. I get why she loved it.
 |
| Ingrid, Peter, and Nick staring out at the Hauraki Gulf |
Friday
When a cousin you haven't seen in over forty years laughs so hard while saying "do you remember the camping trip when we all ate so many cherries that we all got hives and you scratched yours and had to go to hospital," you know you're home. In addition to farm-stand-cherry-induced hives, we share the experience of mothers who died far too young, and that did come up in conversation, yes. It is grounding to remember the power of connections like these.
 |
| Nicky, me, Francie (or Frankie, as her family now call her). |
Then I left the lunch a teeny bit early to go visit with my college-era boyfriend who lived nearby. I got teased about this, because teasing is one of my family's love-languages.
Saturday:
The Warkworth A and P Show. That stands for Agricultural and Pastoral, and the closest American equivalent would be a county fair. Where do I start? Miniature pony judging? Donkey agility? (Turns out they aren't terribly agile but they seemed to be enjoying themselves). A line dance demonstration accompanied by a live rendition of Sweet Caroline?
 |
| My aunt Anne, Ingrid, me, all appropriately hatted for the weather. |
I don't usually post videos but I need to share this with you. I was genuinely in awe of the judge's knowledge, love of cattle, and public speaking skills.
Sunday:
We were instructed to wear colorful clothing for Sandra's Celebration of Life, and I am nothing if not obedient. This was a long day with inspiring highs and challenging lows.
 |
| Me wearing my Goodwill op shop dress, with my lovely nephew Fern |
Monday:
A flat white and a long black while we discuss What It All Means at the Snell's Beach cafe before I head to the airport.
 |
| Ingrid's drink is a long black - two shots of espresso with the hot water on the side. When are these coming to America? |
Oh, and the bird count. Tuis woke me up every morning, going off like alarm clocks outside my window. There were pukekos, dotterels, variable oyster catchers, white faced herons, terns (maybe fairy?), black backed gulls (mature and needy juveniles), mynahs (I feel like these shouldn't count, they're the starlings of NZ), mallards, canada geese. Heard all through the night but never seen were the little morepork owls (ruru). There were rumors of godwits at the next beach over, but I didn't have a chance to check them out.
I was going to keep this shorter, but just one more - each morning I got up to watch the sunrise over the bay and walk over the headland.
No comments:
Post a Comment