Airini

My friend Airini has died.

Over the two years I knew her she was always popping by with magazines for me to read. We'd have a chat with her sitting on her motorbike wrapped up in wet weather gear, woollen gloves, scarves and a cap perched on top even in the heat of summer. She'd pull an old hessian sack over her knees to keep the chill off and carry a stick to wave at Lil if she got up to mischief. She took a great interest in my cats, especially Kit who she called the most beautiful cat she'd ever seen (Kit was forever rolling over showing her tummy and generally behaving like a tart). Often Airini would bring photos to show me of the cats her family owned when she was young, then more recent pictures of the middle aged version of herself with kid goats climbing over her farmbike back in the 80s. Often she'd cut the conversation short before rushing home to watch a rugby match or else the cricket on Sky while she did crosswords to keep her mind sharp as a tack.

Earlier this year she began driving down to the farm dump with bags of photos and memorabilia to burn. She said she was having a clear out so her niece wouldn't have to do it after she was gone. It was only weeks later that I heard she'd been diagnosed with Leukaemia. She no longer rode her four wheeler motorbike but instead drove her car down to do her few farm chores with her dog Lil still running beside her. There were no more conversations at the front fence but she'd always hold her hand up in greeting as she drove by.

I never got to say goodbye before I left the farm but two weeks ago when I heard she'd had an accident I rang the farm manager's wife who told me that Airini had gone to open a gate and fainted. Turned out she was dehyrdated and her family, fearing she wasn't looking after herself, put her in a home. I sent her a card over a week ago never expecting that she'd die suddenly a few days later. Her heart must have broken from having to leave the land. She was in her 89th year.