The thing I'm really going to miss about my Aunt, is being able to just drop in for a visit and having a real good yarn. I loved the animated way in which she lavished her stories. She was always a breath of fresh air. I loved her laugh. I can hear it now as I think about her, an echoe in my memory so sweetly savored. My deepest regret was that I never recorded our conversations. The way she remembered my mum, or my dad, or our farm, or her siblings, or life on D'Urville when they were all young and care free. I couldn't get enough of that endearing family history, chatting to late hours of the night. What I loved about aunty the most, though, was her complete honesty. If she thought you got it all wrong, she'd tell you so. Not harshly, but with earnest sincerity. She wouldn't just go along with you to be agreeable. That's one of the reasons why I loved going to her if I had any queries because I knew that what ever she said, I could count on it to be the honest truth as she saw it.
I remember one of the best holidays I ever had was when I was 12 years old at Aunty Terewai's. Aunty and Uncles' farm was quite spread out where the homestead is and they let my brother Albert and I ride their horses. Nothing beats the excitement for a young kid than riding a horse at full gallop with the wind in your face and the sound of hooves pounding in your ears as they thrashed relentlessly on the cascading ground below.
There were just a couple of neighbors there at that time, and one family across the road had a girl who's birthday fell on the same date as mine, so we all got together for a double birthday party and had a great time. There were no electronic games in those days. You had to be creative and make your own fun. With new found friends, we'd all go exploring down by the streams that meandered towards Lake Taupo. We'd scout for pools to swim in, and while away the time talking about everything in general, but nothing in particular. That's the thing I liked about country kids - they're down to earth. I loved being with them, enjoying simple pleasures. I couldn't wait to return again for more of the same, but when I did, the whole place had changed. Aunty's whare was lost in a sea of houses. Turangi had become a bustling town full of miners from Italy. We had a real hard time trying to figure out where the homestead was, and finding access to it. For me, the change was quite drastic. An innocence lost. Those beautiful spacious fields where horses roamed... gone! That quiet stillness of country... gone! replaced by the noisy bustle of a modern township. I was terribly disappointed. The place had lost a certain magic, but you can't mope about it. In the end, I preferred to stay indoors and just lounge about, reading. Aunty had heaps of books to read. She was always reading and encouraged me to do the same. That's where I got my love for reading, I suppose. And when I put my book down, I'd spend hours talking with my Aunty... well, her talking, and me listening. I've never met anyone since who can tell a story as lively and as interesting as she did. I shall truly miss her heaps!
My condolences to my cousins and their whanau.
I love you all. I trust the images I captured with my camera will bring to mind the many, many people who loved your Mum and Nanna, and bring comfort to you all in your time of sorrow and sadness.
Arohanui,
Justyn
