In my role as editor of the Whakatane News, I was asked to go to Kutarere last Thursday night.
It was the first time in seven years the Takamore whanau wanted to publicly have a say. In the dark, on a cold winter's night, people continued to arrive, they greeted and were greeted, they sat, they stood, they caught up.
The group guarding the urupa and the tupapaku of James Takamore came down every now and then and made a cup of tea, the atmosphere was relaxed and largely happy.
For the people it was simple - they had a job to do and they were going to do it.
I have always wondered if Mr Takamore's partner and his Christchurch mates were as prepared to guard and defend him when he died, whether this seven-year saga would have ever played out.
Personally I believe Mr Takamore is where he should be.
Four decades ago my European, Wairarapa-bred mother married my European, East Coast-living father and moved to his family farm in Tolaga Bay. Two years later a car crash took the life of my mother and rendered my father very sick for a long time.
My paternal grandparents arranged the funeral and my mother was buried in Tolaga Bay.
After his recovery my father did not return to work on the family farm. He re-married and re-located. Some 20 years later the farm was sold. For 40 years my mother has been alone.
Should she have been taken back to Masterton and her family to be buried? Yes.
And that is without tikanga or mana whenua influencing the decision.
Also, I believe, to enter a relationship with a person of Maori heritage is to accept customary rights and beliefs, even if they do not practise them themselves.
Perhaps, if Mr Takamore remains at Kutarere, his two children will be able to forge a relationship with his side of the whanau when they visit. At the end of the day, whanau is the closest thing we have to ourselves.