Aaron Mathew, my Brother.
A few years ago when I had been welcomed back to the family of my birth on the Marae, I started thinking about the brother that was number 15, I was number 14 in my birth family. His name was Aaron Mathew, and I will not name his adopted family name.
It got to the point when I could not erase his name or imagine him from my mind. It was not scary or anything at all, it was just that he seemed a constant, yet polite, intrusion into my consciousness, for two years. I asked questions about him as he had died when I was very young, I was about 4, I believe.
There are no pictures that anyone in our family has of Aaron, as he died when he was very young.
He fell from his high chair as it was explained to me.
One of my sisters, Nita told me that she remembers how Aaron looked, as she played the organ at his funeral. Aaron was adopted by a couple who at the time had no children of their own and in the 60's in New Zealand raising children from friends or families for Maoris was a common practice. I am not totally sure about the details of why these people particularly wanted this child from my birth parents but they did win the confidence of my parents and were able to adopt Aaron.
My adopted mum Grace and birth mum Vera recounted a story to me one time about a time they were sitting in the dining room of our home, when on a sunny day as they gazed out the large dining room window chatting, the tree in the front yard shook strongly and almost on cue I apparently came from underneath the table and stared at the window and said bye or something like that.
They later found that at the same time that incident occurred Aaron had died. As they recounted that story to me, I knew it was true. It was like hearing something I knew had happened but had forgotten. It was at that moment as though I remembered it happening. It is a strange feeling to describe but I just knew it did.
And so, fast forward to the reunion many years later, when I felt the bonhomie and love that eminated toward me from the family, my thoughts for the next two years were centered on young Aaron. So as I was returning to New Zealand I determined that I would find him. I asked questions of my sister Olive, who said we would go and have a look. I told her of my thoughts concerning Aaron, and my feeling that he felt left out, by saying "what about me?" So with Olive, brother Bruce and brother Wayne, we drove the 3-4 hours as I recall to find our young brother. When we arrived in the city we went to the local city planning office, who sent us to the registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages. Interesting aside here is, that the title of that department is listed in that order. Shouldn't it be the department of Marriages, Births and Deaths? Anyway, I digress.
Once we gave the directions they found that Aaron was in a particular cemetery and we could find him by going to that grid reference.
We did that and could not find him still, we then went to the sextant's office in the cemetery who said that Aaron had been in an unmarked grave for some 33 years, our little brother. How truly crest fallen and sad we all felt.
Bruce mentioned once that he once entertained the thought of being cremated and scattered but the impact of being around our brother who had no outward reminder that his earthly remains were here was heart wrenching and I think it impacted strongly on all of us, and helped to alter Bruces view as well.
I can report that Aaron is now "listed" he has a plaque and I am pleased. We phoned his adopted Mother after this experience and expressed, politely, yet strongly that we wanted to seek permission to get a headstone or plaque for Aaron, she reported that she had been tossing this around for some time and was going to do it. Whilst I held reservations after 33 years that she would actually do justice to our young brother, she has, and I thank her sincerely.
I felt at that time that Aaron rejoiced that he was found by his birth family. I felt it to be akin to my own feeling a couple of years before at the reunion. My heart was full then, and still is now that we had made the effort to find him. He never permeated my consciousness much after that time with the same persistence as before, I took it to assume he was happy and content now.
I have a feeling I wrote about this before in a post but will not go and find it, but felt for the last day or so Aaron is near again, and as I write this I don't know if his passing anniversary or birth date is around this time, but I feel it important to in some small measure let him know I think of him....still. I doubt he reads my blog!!! But I just wanted to radiate my feeling to the world and hope that somehow he might know of my love and feeling toward him.
I love my family members. All, including me, are difficult to understand at times, but are all people who at the very basic building blocks of ones soul are very generous and loving people.
True, that may come through rough passage on occasion, we may all do things that are baffling and beyond understanding to many if not ourselves at times, but I try not to judge them or me, too harshly, but try to accept them for who they are. People who would do anything for me if they knew I needed them, and I love them individually and collectively.
A newsflash just in confirms the body found in a Dubrovnic harbour in Croatia is that of missing Australian backpacker, Britt Lapthorne. My thoughts and prayers go to her family and friends. Life is much shorter than we realise, enjoy each other and live each day to the full as it comes.
I mentioned once before in a previous post that we always know when we have firsts in life, the first time we kiss, first time we drive, but we never know when the lasts will ever happen do we.
It got to the point when I could not erase his name or imagine him from my mind. It was not scary or anything at all, it was just that he seemed a constant, yet polite, intrusion into my consciousness, for two years. I asked questions about him as he had died when I was very young, I was about 4, I believe.
There are no pictures that anyone in our family has of Aaron, as he died when he was very young.
He fell from his high chair as it was explained to me.
One of my sisters, Nita told me that she remembers how Aaron looked, as she played the organ at his funeral. Aaron was adopted by a couple who at the time had no children of their own and in the 60's in New Zealand raising children from friends or families for Maoris was a common practice. I am not totally sure about the details of why these people particularly wanted this child from my birth parents but they did win the confidence of my parents and were able to adopt Aaron.
My adopted mum Grace and birth mum Vera recounted a story to me one time about a time they were sitting in the dining room of our home, when on a sunny day as they gazed out the large dining room window chatting, the tree in the front yard shook strongly and almost on cue I apparently came from underneath the table and stared at the window and said bye or something like that.
They later found that at the same time that incident occurred Aaron had died. As they recounted that story to me, I knew it was true. It was like hearing something I knew had happened but had forgotten. It was at that moment as though I remembered it happening. It is a strange feeling to describe but I just knew it did.
And so, fast forward to the reunion many years later, when I felt the bonhomie and love that eminated toward me from the family, my thoughts for the next two years were centered on young Aaron. So as I was returning to New Zealand I determined that I would find him. I asked questions of my sister Olive, who said we would go and have a look. I told her of my thoughts concerning Aaron, and my feeling that he felt left out, by saying "what about me?" So with Olive, brother Bruce and brother Wayne, we drove the 3-4 hours as I recall to find our young brother. When we arrived in the city we went to the local city planning office, who sent us to the registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages. Interesting aside here is, that the title of that department is listed in that order. Shouldn't it be the department of Marriages, Births and Deaths? Anyway, I digress.
Once we gave the directions they found that Aaron was in a particular cemetery and we could find him by going to that grid reference.
We did that and could not find him still, we then went to the sextant's office in the cemetery who said that Aaron had been in an unmarked grave for some 33 years, our little brother. How truly crest fallen and sad we all felt.
Bruce mentioned once that he once entertained the thought of being cremated and scattered but the impact of being around our brother who had no outward reminder that his earthly remains were here was heart wrenching and I think it impacted strongly on all of us, and helped to alter Bruces view as well.
I can report that Aaron is now "listed" he has a plaque and I am pleased. We phoned his adopted Mother after this experience and expressed, politely, yet strongly that we wanted to seek permission to get a headstone or plaque for Aaron, she reported that she had been tossing this around for some time and was going to do it. Whilst I held reservations after 33 years that she would actually do justice to our young brother, she has, and I thank her sincerely.
I felt at that time that Aaron rejoiced that he was found by his birth family. I felt it to be akin to my own feeling a couple of years before at the reunion. My heart was full then, and still is now that we had made the effort to find him. He never permeated my consciousness much after that time with the same persistence as before, I took it to assume he was happy and content now.
I have a feeling I wrote about this before in a post but will not go and find it, but felt for the last day or so Aaron is near again, and as I write this I don't know if his passing anniversary or birth date is around this time, but I feel it important to in some small measure let him know I think of him....still. I doubt he reads my blog!!! But I just wanted to radiate my feeling to the world and hope that somehow he might know of my love and feeling toward him.
I love my family members. All, including me, are difficult to understand at times, but are all people who at the very basic building blocks of ones soul are very generous and loving people.
True, that may come through rough passage on occasion, we may all do things that are baffling and beyond understanding to many if not ourselves at times, but I try not to judge them or me, too harshly, but try to accept them for who they are. People who would do anything for me if they knew I needed them, and I love them individually and collectively.
A newsflash just in confirms the body found in a Dubrovnic harbour in Croatia is that of missing Australian backpacker, Britt Lapthorne. My thoughts and prayers go to her family and friends. Life is much shorter than we realise, enjoy each other and live each day to the full as it comes.
I mentioned once before in a previous post that we always know when we have firsts in life, the first time we kiss, first time we drive, but we never know when the lasts will ever happen do we.
Comments
I have had prescient experiences such as you describe in this post a few times in my life -- sometimes in my dreams, other times in actuality ... very rare, and extremely goose-bumpy!
I'm pretty sure I've told you this before, Craig, but you have a truly unique way of putting words together. In fact, I might have quoted you a time or two in one of my posts. (Recently, too, but I'm not going to back just now and look it up.)
In this post, what struck me was (paraphrasing here) "We always know when we have 'firsts' in life -- first kiss, for example -- but we never know when the 'lasts' will happen, do we?"
"Life is much shorter than we realize. Enjoy each other, and live each day to the fullest as it comes."
Beautiful phraseology!
I was sorry to learn of the finding of the body of the Australian backpacker. Do they suspect foul play? I mean, one doesn't backpack in a large body of water! Perhaps she was on a cliff and fell? Was she alone on her trek?
A poignant post, Craig. Thought-provoking.
I don't know where to start. This was one of your most intense posts.
I'm truly sorry about Aaron....I had tears in my eyes reading about him. And then not having a tombstone with his name for 33 years is unreal. God bless you and your siblings for stepping up and I'm glad the adopted mother finally came thru and got it done. (???) AS for him falling out of his highchair, hmmm.
My father passed away in 1990 and then shortly afterwards we moved to Arizona (from Illinois). I remember the first time I went back to visit Illinois 7 years later and telling my aunt to take me to the cemetery to visit my "dad." Lo an behold, the stone said "beloved son and brother."
What happened to FAther? Or husband? I was more in tears over that issue than I was missing him. His brother had put those words on there and we never knew. My siblings and I discussed changing it, but we just said let it be. He was a great son and brother, true, but we siblings know in our hearts that he was also a great father and husband to my mother.
As for the tree shaking violently when Aaron passed, I truly believe it.
Wow Craig, chilling post, but a great one in the end.
Hugs my friend.
the part where you said "do we ever know when the lasts will be?"
I ALWAYS think like this. I really do!!!
I think losing my dad made me think this way in the last 18 years. I always fear dying young, I don't know why. Maybe related to my father's experience.
When i read that part about "lasts", i chuckled. We're on the same page.