Haere ra, sweet Ash

Ashley Jay Hemi 08.07.89 to 07.08.89

A beautiful send off, the heart still weeps
Your memory will stay within us for keeps
You were truly a spark that lit up lives
So bright and clever but not always wise
Your life was filled with much love and much pain
A loss so deep - we will never be the same
Go gently our Ash, let love be your guide
To dwell in His house with your nan by your side
Rest easy our Ash, let our love keep you safe
Until we meet again in heaven's embrace

😘

Fly with the angels sweet girl 💞

In the nightmare before the dream

I was 20. Living on the streets.
Every moment of every day as if it were my last.
No care. No worries. No stress.
Did I want this life? No.
Did I ask for this life? I don't think so.
So why was I here?

Does it start with the parentals? 

When the parents would come home from the pub with a whole lot of people carrying crates and flagons.  The guitar comes out and they're singing and laughing. And the more they drink, the more they read into what isn't even there and they get louder and louder. The room fills up with smoke and the swearing butts in.  Dad is yelling at mum and mum is yelling back. The guitar player stops playing and bottles start rattling just before the thumping noises and screams start.  Does my pathway to the hell I'm in start there?

What about the abuse?

Dad's gone to jail and a few 'uncles' are coming through the door.  All of them are drunk, just like mum and they're slobbery and stink and trying to get some of those 'extra cuddles' in with me while mum is passed out in her own vomit beside the toilet.  Maybe it started there.

And the hidings...

There's a new man in the house.  He's looks a lot younger. He doesn't have kids. Gee, mum has six!  He was good to us. He cooked banana cake ... and then his kid was born. Now we're the bastards. The other man's kids. 'Your fucking kids,' he yells at our maternal parent.  And she lets him hit us. "No wonder they're mad, you keep hitting them in the head." She's pleading with him.  Hug us! Tell us you're going to protect us! Maybe it started there.

The institutions ...

They said I was just like him. "Just like your father!"
How do I know? I hardly remember him. What was he like?
He must be better than this hand that lifts me off my feet and throws me into the walls. He must be better than this hand that causes the side of my face to swell and the raised welts on my legs. Surely?
Why did they send me away? Just like my father? Maybe?

The gangs ...

There is shelter and protection and ways to mask the pain within. Those that ask nothing but expect everything. Those that use and abuse you until you become a user and abuser.
It didn't start here. It was already on a roll.

The teacher ...

Who picked me up out of the gutter.
Who showed honesty, trust and warmth.
Who led me to another pathway.
Who saved me from myself.

I am 21 and the dream is about to begin ...

Grammar vs Meaning

I say, "Yous got a money?" and I'm laughed at for not speaking English properly but in Māori I would say, "He moni āu?" 
They say, "You Maoris" and I say there is no 's' in Māori. 
But it's not Māori, they say. It's English to add the 's' and I'm speaking English.
Ohhhh... right. So I ask again, "You got a moneys?" 
😂😂
Yeah, just try and get grammatical with me again!

Cousin, why?

My cousin died yesterday afternoon from injuries sustained in a head-on collision his car made with a car-carrier truck in the Kaimai Ranges, east of Hamilton. 

Yesterday (21 hrs ago) his distraught partner had taken to facebook in a bid to help find him,

"PLEASE from the bottom of my heart help us find him. 
This man is my darling, my baby's dad. An amazing father, friend, uncle, son, brother and partner who is dearly loved by us all ❤❤
His name is Te Hokinga Mai Katipa also known as Hooks. 
He has been struggling with Mental Health for a number of months
And we are so worried about him 😭😭😭
We miss him, we love him, and we just want to him to come back home to us safe and alive ❤❤
Please help us find him. We don't have alot of time"

I woke up this morning at 5.30 to hear that he was no longer with us.  God I just wanna scream!!  

I remember when you were a baby and why you were named.  After the Exhibition that came home in 1987.  It was called Te Hokinga Mai - The Return Home.  It was a history making time and I suppose aunty wanted you to carry that name to remember a time Māori took to the international stage and were revered. 

I met you at my grandmother's funeral.  Aunty came down from Gizzy with dad and we all went to the pub for a drink and a break from the tangihanga at the marae.  You were still on the tit and it wasn't a problem for Aunty to feed you in the pub, actually it wasn't a problem to feed a baby anywhere.  

Man, I wish I was in Gizzy right now!  I wish I could just go and sit with my cousins and love them, and hold them, and just be there.  I'm feeling so sad for aunty, uncle and your siblings.  

It's published as a car accident.  Was it, cuz?

Did you run into that truck deliberately? 

I don't even have any words... moe mai rā my cousin. 

I hope peace finds you and has eased your mamae.

Moe mai rā, Whero

Whero, the 6 year old rednose pitball was euthanised this morning.  He spent his last moments surrounded by his ever-loving family. 

Whero has been in our family all of his life.  His daddy moved to Australia when he was just a wee pup and Whero was left with his 2nd daddy, Terry. 

Terry was a bit of a koretake dad too.  He kept going to jail too many times and Whero was left to be raised by his Aunty Jess, and Uncle Hayden.  Nash, a little squeaky Maltese has been his playmate and friend most of his life.  

Aunty Chakani would pick up both Nash and Whero and take them for walks all the time.  Whero was so used to his aunty, he'd jump the fence every time he heard her car coming along the road. 

Last night and this morning she visited with him.  Whero tried to rush to her but only his front legs would move.  He doesn't know what is going on. All he can do is try to crawl to give Chakani kisses and cuddles.

We will miss you, Whero.  Nash will probably miss you the most. You gave us friendship, laughter and love in everything you did. 

I can still see you racing through my house when you saw Tinkerbell, our cat.  You scared the heck out of her! You left a trail of destruction trying to get to her.  Poor Tinkerbell, I don't think she'll miss you - you almost killed her. :(

Even when you were a hōhā - like running away. I'm sure everyone on the FB lost and found page know you by heart from all the searching we did for you.

It was no problem to you - you didn't know the fuss you called.

Whero contracted a spinal disc disease. No one knows when or how he contracted the disease but it has become a wee bit too sudden for us.  He was paralyzed on Friday and the vet tells us he is in pain.  Euthanisation is Whero's most compassionate option because even if he was taken to a specialist, there is no guarantee that he will get better.  The tears in Whero's eyes tell us how much pain he is in.

His home family have arrived home from Australia yesterday and last night he spent his last night with those who love him.

 Moe mai rā Whero, you beautiful beautiful boy.

We love you.  We will forever love and miss you.

WHERO  

Not your time...

Looking back to when we were blessed with you.  You came to us with nothing but immediately gave to us everything.  Instant love, affection and innocence.

You needed us as we needed you.  You loved us as we loved you.
You depended on us and we protected you.

Today you needed love like never before.
You needed comfort and protection.
You needed to know it wasn't your fault.
It happens.

It just wasn't your time.

Photo is word

When a picture doesn't paint a thousand words but provokes thought.

You can't stop the heartache

If only...

I'm sorry this has happened to you again.
I'm sorry I couldn't comfort you.
I'm sorry I couldn't take the pain from you.
I'm sorry it was yours alone to bear.
I'm sorry this hurts.
I'm sorry you are not yet a mother.
I'm sorry my baby girl.
I'd take it from you if I could.
If only I could.
If only...

I made a game

Kātahi te tangata mātau rawa atu ko ahau!  Kikī katoa tēnei i te whakahihi me tāku mōhio me pehea te whakamahi kēmu i runga i te rorohiko nei!  Mīharo ahau ki ahau anō.  Pai kare!

Aukei, ko ērā noa iho taku hiahia - ki te pāpaho ki te ao - kua oti i ahau tētahi mahi pai rawa atu. A, nāku anō i mahi!  Yeyah!!

Are you proud?

Watching Marae this morning on youth offenders that are in 'lock-up' and the question was posed, "Are you proud?"  He had learned to play chess and while his group was placed third in a school competition, he was selected to go on to compete in a National competition. There was a bit of a pause and then a little laugh before 'Ricardo' (not his real name) replied, "Ah yeap." A beat skipped, a breath taken, a memory returned. 

I was taken back to times when people I know (and love) have paused when asked this question or when praised.  Even I've done that. His identity may have been withheld and the focus only on a blurry silhouette but what he did was so familiar - he leaned back and let out an uncomfortable laugh before responding.  It was as if he was expecting to be punished or hit for feeling good about himself - for acknowledging his achievements. He didn't seem to know how to respond but he didn't want to sound dumb either, so he just says, "Oh yeap." He was probably hoping there wouldn't be a 'why' after that because that might really test him.

I know that feeling and it is uncomfortable ... but why do we feel like that? I can't tell everyone's story or suggest that I know why we do what we do so I'm just going to stick to my story which is the same anyway as those who are close to me.

We were raised without compliments. We were told to do things and we did them. "Go get the wood, do the dishes, make the beds, look after your sisters, bring the washing in, stir the pot," the list goes on. I don't remember hearing praises for doing any of those things, let alone for doing them well.  I just got the, "Have you finished, yet? Did you wipe the benches too? Well, you took your time. Now, go do ... "  There are no praises in any of that. But the times when I didn't listen properly or did the task slowly or wrong, or did something else instead - the consequences of those memories are ingrained.  They're the memories that we shouldn't remember but we do. 

It started with the yelling. Then the tongue would fold up between clenched teeth and a hand would rise up above their head. That's when I knew it was time to shut my eyes tight, lean back and hug my body  - protect myself and hope it's over quickly.  A lot of the time when I was young, my hands would try to protect my arse from the boot that was going to send me across the room but if I saw the hand raised, I knew it was my head I had to protect. I got such bad headaches after sometimes that I'd sleep and wake up to another hiding for 'being lazy'.  Yeah, I remember those. Move fast to do things.  Do it right or feel the consequence. Flinching and and cowering became almost instinctive behaviour.

I had to learn how to act when I received praise or compliments. Just knowing how to recognise a compliment, what they sounded like and how to accept them was really hard learning for me.  I was in an institution at the time.  I didn't realise that I was negative towards compliments until someone asked me why I hit people for saying nice things to me. I was 20.  It made me think. Compliments were foreign to me. My feelings towards them was that people were either lying, sucking up or just getting smart. It wasn't natural. Well, it didn't feel natural.  I learned in that institution how to recognise a compliment and how to accept one. The giving of compliments was easier once I accepted them myself.  WOW!  What an eye-opening experience!

This is the feeling I resonated with when I watched Ricardo pause, laugh and lean back.  He was not comfortable with the question, 'Are you proud?' and did not know how to respond. He has probably not had enough people praise him and tell him good, positive things about himself.  He has some learning to do.  I hope the facility staff recognises what Ricardo did and fills his world with praise. Here's the kumara who needs someone to tell others how sweet he is because he won't.  You can never go wrong with something so right.

Mā te kōrero ka tika.  Mā runga i te manaaki me te aroha ka mau.

When my head fills up....

And I can't think how to empty it I talk. Silently.

Knowing your worth

How do you know?
What defines how much you're worth?
Who defines?

Have you ever had one of those moments where you start to ask yourself why things happen the way that they do? Have you ever questioned the outcome and then ponder on what you could have changed if you have the chance or if you thought it through properly or if you could just do it again?  I do.  All the time.

Actually I've had a whole lifetime of moments that I wish I could re-do. Those  back-the-heck-up-and-let's-do-that-again moments.  But they weren't good moments. Heck no! They're either embarrassing, hurtful, shameful or just plain phuck ups! The moments I've regretted and want to do again to put it right.  The trials in my life. 

Are these what define me? No but they do have a place in there somewhere - in my whole make-up.  We should learn from our mistakes but the more 'experienced' I become in life, the more I think that the mistakes could have been avoided had I planned it better - had I foresaw the outcome or thought through the situation more.  Oh heck! If I had just over-analysed the situation lol.  No wonder I make a mess sometimes because that's exactly what happened.

I know what defines me.

It's me.

Remembering my maunga...

The banana and the apple.

Once upon a time (obviously) there lived a banana who desperately wanted to be an apple.

He ached to shine like the apple did and glow when the light hit his skin.
He longed to be shades of greens or reds or a mix of both.
He yearned to be the one to be placed proudly at the corner of the teachers desk or the fruit of choice in the lunch box.
He was not even the lure of Eve or the one that kept the doctor away ...

He envied the life of the apple.
It reminded him of everything he wasn't and his sorrow was quickly noticed by the wisest of all fruit... the peanut!

The peanut said,
"Banana, your skin does shine like the brightest sun and glow the brightest yellow.
You do have shades of the finest yellow and no need to worry for choice.
You may not sit at the teacher's desk but some teachers do not eat their apple.
Imagine if Eve ate a banana, you'd be eternally mistrusted and disliked.
If only an apple could keep the doctor away, what a joyous world this would be indeed.
Alas my dear friend, Banana. You will never ever be an apple no matter how hard you tried.
Because you are a banana.
Instead of wallowing in sorrow trying to be what can never be.

BE the best dang banana in the bunch!"

And so I remember my maunga....
I remember where I'm from.

And I am the best that I can be and there is still better to come.

Mess! Mess! Mess!

So many familiar triggers have got me all emotionally again! I haven't felt like this in years.

But it's all flooding back.  So much of what I read last night and this morning was sooo familiar.  She's not as bad as I was... but it's all the same story.

I at least had both my parents .. but then dad had 3 more families and I love all of them. Poor Max. Her halves suck! Her mum committing suicide?

Mess! Mess! Mess!

Remember the time ...

Something happened last night that really made me angry and upset.  So much so that I did not respond to the next attempt to contact me.  I knew that if I did respond I might say something that would jeopardise the relationship. I was acting on 'experience.'

Little witch!

Words unspoken....

How did we get here?  

So many babies, so much I want to say ... but can't. I don't have the words. I don't know what I want to say. I started crying when I heard and my heart still hurts. Why? May 5th is always my first memory... back to you Ngaroata, my sweet, most loved niece. You're the first person that I think of, that I can feel when I hear news like this. You're the only one that I associate this kind of pain with. I miss you too. I miss you very very much. I wish you could see how much we ache for you. To hear you sing again, to watch you grow like you should have. You took all that away from us and left us empty.

That's what I feel now. Emptiness. Again!  And sadness for a mum who is once again burying another of her sons. Why? What did she do to deserve such heartache?

Don't you know how much you were supposed to be here? You were born so that you may grow! So that you will one day have your own children. So that you will grow old, have mokopuna and share with them the joys of your own childhood.

We are still numb. Numb with disbelief! Why? I cry for you now - just like I did for your brother 2 years ago. Haere ra e tama.  He tama noa iho koe. 16 years old and gone... :( Sadness overwhelms me...

Hepa - we love you. 

When they don't say anything LOUDLY!

My kids do this! And it's annoying!

I am a talker. I need to talk to release whatever it is that goes on in my head. I went to a psychic church once and was offered 'healing'. The person didn't touch me, just sort of ran their hands slowly around my body. They spent a lot of time around my head. She was there for a good five minutes before she slumped down onto a chair and said to me, "Sorry, but there's a lot going on in your head and I'm exhausted by it." 
"Oh right," I sighed. "Make me feel good - NOT"

That experience was a negative experience for me and I became conscientiously aware of what and how much I was saying. Frustration led to seeking justification for my attempts to remain silence. To this very day my favourite is from Kahlil Gibran

"You speak when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts"

But back to my kids, and really this is about the silence that they express loudly around the house.  Let's meet all four.

The eldest who when she doesn't want to listen she responds with a nod and either hides in her room or rushes around the house loudly! Second born smiles loudly. No matter what response you expect, this one will meet you with 'that' smile.  Pursue a response and you may be met with a loud snarly smile.

Number three has learned much from watching the eldest. Stomping, rustling and loud 'sighs' fill the room with ice. And then there is the only male in our house. Our youngest. He is quite like me, loud and sometimes annoying. He's hopeless at maintaining silence.  I am proud that he possesses this trait (sometimes).

Loud kids live at my house.  Let em roar!

My son's intro to the world of English language.

He is surrounded by English speakers in a predominately English speaking country but was raised and schooled in the native language of his people.  He has not been learning English for very long, about 3 years, but if add these years to his maturity, it might equate to around 3 months!

Anyway, back to the kaupapa...

We were driving to Wellington and one of his two older sisters (his twin is one) decided that we should play a 'tense' game.  This game involves me saying a sentence in the present tense and them repeating the sentence in the past tense. Right!  The game! 
I talk.
Sister, "I talked." Son, "I ...."
I see.
Sister, "I saw."  Son, "I seed."
I tell.
Sister, "I told." Son, "I tall."
Climb.
Sister, "Climbed." Son, "Clum."
By this time I had to pull over cos my eyes were welling up with tears and my belly ached from the laughter. I could no longer concentrate on the road.

But...
Do you see the pattern here?  It wasn't until later that I realised what he was doing. My son was, inm fact, paying attention and using the knowledge he gained from what was previously said to help him solve the next problem. 

Yeah, he's my boy. 
Very clever!

Random Speaks in Kids

My most memorable conversations in class are the oral outbursts of my students. Some are funny, some are so logical, they're boring and others just make you wanna cry.  Let's look at some examples:

(Oh and I teach in Maori so these are translations of what the student said)

Year 8 students studying NZ were reading about Captain James Cook, the great discoverer of our nation when one student suddenly blurted out, "Miss! His names not Captain James Cook. It's Loo..loo-ten-tant..."

Year 7: Is Masterton in the North Island?

 Class discussion on how symbolism and what colours symbolise.
Year 9: I think this picture symbolises sadness because it has no colour. (the picture was photocopied in black and white)