Some of us have had the wind quite literally knocked out of us over the past few weeks. It was by txt that we heard about the regretable passing of Te Arikinui Dame Te Atairangikaahu. Our house stopped for a minute as our heads bowed in sorrow and in contemplation. We then looked for media reports to confirm and to let us know more. While both radio, TV and the internet were slow in coming, once the media did arrive, they paid homage by staying and bearing witness to history being made. With sadness, the Maori Queen had passed.

Many of our whanau made their way to Ngaruawahia, waiting outside Turangawaewae marae along with thousands of others for many hours, before entering the final resting place of the Lady. She was always smiling, but not today. All around her we wept. Tributes flowed across the courtyard like rays of sun and shards of rain, from across the country, from across the Pacific, from throughout the World. She would stay for seven days, as benefiting someone of her stature. Her final movement was joined by millions as she left Turangawaewae for the last time; along the Waikato River, across State Highway 1 and up into the urupa on Taupiri. Again, for the moment, we sat timelessly sad. As the Maori Queen was buried, the Maori King was preparing for the future – but today, he, like us all, cried.

Our whanau then moved home to Waimana, where preparations were made to receive Nanny Haupai, or Nanny Jack as some knew her, who had passed up in Auckland and was returning to Tuhoe to be buried. She had been with us during the Mitre 10 Marae DIY build (Issue 11). Nanny Haupai was really pleased that the whanau had come together for the Marae DIY build and had been really impressed by the effort, laughing and joking about her own make-over. Her tangi was sad for many of the nannies, who had lost their mate, and for the whanau, who had lost a mum and a kuia.

We returned home to start back into life's routine when we received a late night call – it was brother Sam saying "Bro, Uncle Junior just died". Now, this Uncle was the quiet uncle who was always busy doing the mahi – from farming to fencing, courier service to operating a laundromat, Uncle Junior could do it all. He never said much but when he did speak, it paid to move. It was only recently that he "softened", giving me an opportunity to talk with him about his life and muse about our future. He was cool.

During the tangi, many of Uncle Junior's friends came, he had made many connections throughout the country, especially during his Trade Training days in Christchurch. The farm in Waimana brought him into contact with families throughout the Bay and his work and learning with the whanau in Manu Ariki had created strong bonds. He was the eldest brother and first born to Koro Rangi and Nanny Cissy Rakuraku. He had taught me how to drive a tractor, had the mightiest afro in the 70s and regularly wore his work overalls around the place. When a job needed to be done, Uncle Junior had already done it.

Many people came through during those three days, from Ruatoki, from Ruatahuna, from Waiohau, from Kutarere, from Maungapohatu, from Murupara, from Galatea, from Opotiki, from Kopeopeo, from Whakatane, from Rotorua. Our brothers Nui and Boss and cousin Wikitoria had returned from Oz to say goodbye. An ope told the whanau of another tupaapaku lying in state in Rotoiti; the father of freedom fighter and activitst lawyer Annette Sykes had passed away, uniting in grief our Tuhoe and Ngati Pikiao whakapapa. Another ope paid tribute to our cousin Henna who had passed away only weeks previous.

On the final day, Uncle Martin paid respects to his big brother. He remembered, he joked, he laughed and he cried as we walked back through Uncle Junior's life. As Uncle Junior left Tanatana marae for the last time, a large haka rang out, conch shells were blown and shots were fired overhead. We proudly carried our Uncle slowly down Matahi Valley Road, stopping before the whanau house, where we raised him to shoulder height, then on into the church for his last service. With great sadness we carried him the final few feet to his resting place and with heavy hearts, we laid him to rest.

At the hakari, we talked about work, commented about the Queen's tangi and wondered what the future held for us all. It was choice to sit with Nikolasa and Atutahi, eating with the whanau, inside the wharekai. The kids finished early and came looking for lollies and spare drinks, the koros and nannies asked for the raw fish and fried bread to be passed down and chatter across the table was always interesting. At the nehu, Koro Jay closed the wharenui door while Koro Rangi blessed us with a karakia, and then the koha and bills were read out. After some final hugs and photos, we all headed home, hearts sad but bellies full.

It has been over a week since we returned home and the sun still rises every morning. We heard 120 babies were born on Father's Day, saw that Anita McNaught's cameraman husband Olaf Wiig was released safely in Gaza, heard that the Wai 262 (flora and fauna) inquiry hearings are absolutely amazing and noticed that Wellington buses are now $1 more expensive. Uncle Junior absolutely would have wanted us to get back to work, rather than hold up the works, and to mourn in movement. There have been times when we swear to have seen him and seen the little things slip which he would have fixed - it's with the little things you notice that people are gone. He left behind a huge legacy and a long list of things to do, and after all is said and done, we are all happy to have known him. All of them.

E to matou Matua i te rangi
Kia tapu tou Ingoa.
Kia tae mai tou rangatiratanga.
Kia meatia tau e pai ai
ki runga ki te whenua,
kia rite ano ki to te rangi. Homai ki a matou aianei
he taro ma matou mo tenei ra.
Murua o matou hara,
Me matou hoki e muru nei
i o te hunga e hara ana ki a matou
Aua hoki matou e kawea kia whakawaia;
Engari whakaorangia matou i te kino:
Nou hoki te rangatiratanga,
te kaha, me te kororia,
Ake ake ake. Amine.

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