Like a movie star you changed cars; there you were, riding in the Saab convertible, your pink scarf holding my hat on your head. No illness could take away the joy on your face that day.
‘When am I going back to Tapu?’, Mama, you would ask when we brought you back to Auckland. Damn, that little shadow on the top right corner of your lung. Eight years on from first monitoring you, I had prayed it would not change – but change it did. And the more I lived knowing that every day above this earth with you is a blessing.