Years ago, my little brother Kory went to New Zealand – as a “bounty hunter.” He was paid to cull overpopulated fallow deer, chamois sheep, and feral hogs in the Haast region. It’s a controversial subject, but is an on-going practice -even while we were there. Key points : 1) he was an amazing bow hunter 2) he was a strong spirit who celebrated the connection of ALL things. 3)he hunted for purpose, not sport 4) he was VERY successful in New Zealand.
He brought back coins for my kids – (which the Tooth Fairy shared with them and which are part of my ‘penny floor’). He shared photos and stories, but I was a busy ‘Mom of Quadruplets’ – and I didn’t really listen. He had several of his different animals made into mounts (to add to his multitude of mounts collection). I wasn’t ‘impressed’ – – we weren’t close at this point.
But we got wiser or better or older- and we ended up as adult friends.
We talked about New Zealand shortly before he died. We were sitting together in a room in the VA Hospital in Minneapolis, watching our father die – and I asked Kory to describe the most beautiful place he could and he said “New Zealand”. He said that ‘it was incredible . . . that around every curve was something MORE incredible . . .waterfalls and lakes and rainforests — you’ve GOT to go.’ I laughed and said it was ‘on my bucket list’ and Kory got really serious and said again “You’ve got to go – seriously, it’s the one place I dream of going back to.”
Our Father died. Kory and I talked daily. Whenever we talked I would end the call with I love you – and he’d say BYE. I asked him why he never said ‘I love you too’ at the end of our call- his answer was typical Kory “you know I love you, why do I have to say it?” I dug out the pictures he had given me from New Zealand and we talked about his trip. I told him I was impressed. He said- “you’ve got to go. You have to see it to believe it. I want to go back.” We talked about grief and family and parenting and dogs and weather and nothing and everything.
And then Kory had a massive heart attack, 26 days after our Dad died – and my world got really quiet and incredibly loud – all at once.
And on this misty grey, blustery morning, Dec. 30, 2019, Kory and I went for a walk on Haast Beach.
This was the area where he had hunted — where he had eaten and slept years before
Mother Earth – in all her raw beauty
and a fine place to rest for awhile. . .
Haast Beach – Kory
You’re here. Sweet Dreams. I love you…. bye.