Kay Patena Testimony

Ko Takitimu toku waka

Ko Ngati Kahungungu toku iwi

Ko Ngāti Poporo rāua ko Ngāti Pāhauwera oku hapu

Ko Mohaka toku awa

Ko Waipapa-a- iwi toku marae

Ko Maungaharuru toku maunga

Ko Richard rāua Lilian oku mātua

I was born in Mohaka, the eldest of fourteen children. During the polio epidemic of the 1950s we moved to Bridge Pa where I attended Pakipaki school. My fondest memories of that time were going to the beach at Napier in an old Ford truck along with my Te Aho, Manihera and Toheiiri relatives.

My whānau and our extended whānau picked fruit and vegetables in the season, and as children we would work before and after school. It was hard yacker, but to make it more bearable we and our cousins would have races to see who could pick the most. We were called “The Boll Weevils” because we could pick anything the fastest.

Dad became a cook in a shearing gang and Mum joined as a rousie. When I left school, I joined the gang too. I hated it. When I met and married Tom I joined him in working at Watties cannery. We lived with my parents , and we were delighted when our son, John was born, I was a stay-at-home Mum. Tom had a job. We had a good home, friends and a son. What more could we ask for?

Life was good and then the unexpected happened: at four months old John died of a cot death. We were shattered. We couldn’t help but ask ”Why is this happening to us?”

My husband Tom was from Tauwhare, Hamilton and it was protocol that our son should be taken there and laid to rest, but my Aunty begged us to have our baby buried at Bridge Pa. After much discussion, we agreed and so our little son was laid to rest with his Ngāti Kahungungu tipuna. It was the hardest thing letting my son go. Tom and I couldn’t handle the grief, and kept asking ourselves “What if we had done this or that?” We started blaming ourselves for our son’s death.

We started drinking and arguing, and eventually decided to move back to Tauwhare for the benefit of us both. We tried to put the painful past behind us and move on with our life.

A year later I fell pregnant again. Late in the pregnancy the whānau went down to Bridge Pa for the wedding of my cousin but we remained behind. It just so happened that my uncle died at the same time so Tom, Dennis (our cousin) and I jumped in Dennis’ Mark 4 Consul and set off for Hastings. The back door had to be closed by tying it to the front door. I remember we had to go up some of those steep hills in reverse, and then turn around and carry on! Then – would you believe- I started to go into labour. We got to the tangi at Pakipaki and paid our respects, hurried to the wedding reception of my cousin, and then went up to the hospital where our beautiful daughter was born on New Year’s Day.

Life was good when we lived at Tauwhare. Another four daughters were born to us. The baby, Hiku had beautiful eyes and a smile like Mona Lisa. Her sisters adored her. So we just couldn’t believe it when she also died of a cot death. I questioned God. “Why did you do this? What have we done to deserve this?”

With the encouragement of my sisterin-law and some of the Christian kuia at Tauwhare, I decided to put my trust in the Lord Jesus Christ. Although Tom wasn’t ready to do the same, he always supported me in my decision. We were both still filled with grief but carried on as best we could; after all we had four other children that we loved dearly.

Within that year we were asked by my cousin if we would like to whaangai a child. We were ecstatic to be given another chance. We went to Hastings for the birth of this little girl, Mae. We took her back to Tauwhare where her sisters were excitedly waiting for her. Mae was like a new beginning for our family: she was a contented baby and she was spoilt. But death struck again. The pain was beyond compare. I believed I was cursed, worthless, didn’t deserve children. I questioned God. Only the support of my husband and whanau got me through.

I started drinking heavily, partying heavily with Tom and leaving the children with their aunt. Eventually we decided to give life another go for the sake of our children, taking them camping in the holidays and on visits to Hastings to reconnect with whanau.

Three years later I gave birth to a baby boy on Tui Cup Day the rugby game of the century for Ngāti Hauā. What a blessing he was! We asked the hospital to give us advice about cot deaths, and though they promised to help us, nothing was done. Tom, my husband sat beside my son’s cot at night for over five months to make sure he was going to be ok.

Five years later I gave birth to another daughter. They had been years filled with trouble and sorrow. Tom had become very ill. He was in and out of hospital. They finally diagnosed that the rheumatic fever he had as a child had affected his heart.

We waited over five years for open heart surgery and finally he was given the green light. He was prepped and waiting to go to theatre, when we were suddenly told that someone who was more serious was to take his place. We were shocked and disheartened: how could anyone be more serious than Tom?

There was nothing more they could do for Tom. I was angry. I felt we had been pushed aside. They put him on another medication but he deteriorated rapidly. It seemed that Tom had given up. We gathered our children together and they just had time to say their goodbyes.

Looking back, I am so thankful that before he died, Tom’s sister Ngaromo led him to the Lord. Tom asked Jesus to be His

Saviour. He gave his heart to Him. It is a great comfort to know that Tom will be waiting for me when it is my turn to go to be with our Heavenly Father.

This was the beginning of a long journey of grief. I couldn’t bear the thought of being a widow at the age of 36 - with six children, the youngest being only one year old.

My whānau were there to support my children and myself through our time of grief. I followed the Ngāti Hauā tikanga of pouarutanga – a year of mourning, attending tangis and unveilings. Every time was like reliving the death of my own husband. Kay became a Kaiāwhina at Hillcrest College in Hamilton as she supported her tamariki. She taught Te Reo and later, because she is very skilled in the art of raranga, she taught this as well. Eventually she became HOD before she retired.

Although her faith had dimmed for some years, the Lord called her back a few years ago. She testifies to His goodness and His blessing as she seeks to encourage her precious tamariki and mokopuna to follow Him also.

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