January 27 marks the second anniversary of my late husband Jono Randell's death. We had been partners for 27 years.
We met on the side of the road in Taupo. He was carving a piece of stone. He a Leo dragon, me a scorpion tigress " our relationship was never dull. He had a wide range of interesting friends and family. His ancestory of Ngati Raukawa and Ngati Tuwharetoa and Scandinavian on his mother's side, a Jensen from Pahiatua. Jono was the fourth eldest of seven. Jono was brought up as Mormon.
Jono was extremely bright, well read and passionate about history, particularly Maori history. There was never a week when The Listener was not consumed. He could carry out a fierce, well-informed debate on most topics - particularly after a whisky.
His dad Jimmy took the family to live in the US when Jono was 12. The family moved to Redondo Beach, Los Angeles, where he attended high school. He told me how much he loved his time in LA, his schooling, surfing and basketball. History and art were his favourite subjects - his history teacher Barbara Polly and her family came later to live in NZ.
His birth date was balloted during the Vietnam War when the family had just decided to return home to NZ.
Jono remained committed to his art. Sculpture, mainly from stone and wood. His well-known pieces include the rock carving on the shores of Lake Taupo and a sculpture at the entrance way to Huka Lodge.
These pieces brought him commissions from overseas.
We knew he had hepatitis C, a virus contracted through contact with blood. One in 12 people have this virus. Jono died with his two sons, Daniel and Jack, and I at home, in his own bed.
A couple of weeks after the funeral I received a letter from our local hospice - Even though Jono has passed away we don't stop caring for you - anniversary days, candle light ceremonies and grief counselling. It was the last line that struck me.
After this huge sad event I would be mad not to consider having counselling. I realised I was not equipped to deal with this on my own. Stages of grieving include denial, anger, bargaining, depression.
But it was the draining emotion of guilt that I was consumed with. How could I, with a background of nursing and naturopathy, not have prevented his death? Sitting in the waiting area of hospice for my first counselling session I remember feeling very unsure. Formal introductions followed by "look I am not sure about coming here. I have never had counselling before." With that the reply in a rich American accent was " "oh my gawd, you Kiwis are so stuck up about counselling." We both laughed - the ice was broken.
I had made the right decision. These sessions provided a safe place to share intimate feelings with tears and laughter. Personally I believe it was life changing. So Jono, as I reflect on the last two years without you, I share this poem by Rowly Habib written for you.
A Dance for Jono.
On hearing the news from Tony Landl that Jono had passed away that morning while Birgitte and I were having a drink at Tony's Sailing Centre in the afternoon on Sunday January 27, 2013.
I could write many words about the man - and probably will in time
Elegiac verses telling of the many memories I have of him
Of the man with the thousand miles stare
But time has been short between the news of his passing and this day. And time doesn't permit.
So, for the moment, these lines only I can proffer.
In the bowed-headed silence that followed
On learning the news of his passing
A memory of happiness raised its head - Let joy prevail!
A dance of Jono
The idea suddenly came to me
When hearing the singer, jamming with the musos
Down in the main body of the centre
Began singing a '70's rock 'n roll song.
"Let's dance for Jono," I suggested to Birgitte
But not sure if it was appropriate
& she would approve
But her eyes lit up at the idea
& she said, "Yes let's",
"Let's dance for Jono."
And so we got up, and on the wooden deck
Of Tony's place, we danced.
We danced for Jono.
Rowley Habib, Taupo January 29, 2013
-Ana Apatu is chief executive of the U-Turn Trust, based at Te Aranga Marae in Flaxmere.