Ngā mihi o te tau hōu e Kaikoha mā,
We are at the shortest days of the year. The cold lingers longer in the shadows. Before dawn, many of us find ourselves standing beneath winter skies, looking eastward, waiting for the first appearance of Matariki. For many whānau, this is a time of return. Back to the kāinga. Back to the marae. Back to familiar roads, kitchens and conversations.
We gather around tables heavy with kai. We sit beside cousins we have not seen for some time. We tell old stories. The same stories, often. And nobody minds. Yet beneath the celebration, there is another current moving quietly through this season. Matariki invites us to remember. To think of those who are no longer seated at the table.
Grandparents. Parents. Friends. Whānau whose laughter once filled the spaces we now occupy. Within the cluster of Te Iwa o Matariki, Pōhutukawa is the Whetū associated with those who have passed on. In many traditions, she is entrusted with carrying the memories and spirits of the dead.
During Hautapu ceremonies, names are spoken aloud. Loved ones are remembered. Tears may come. Gratitude often follows. There is something deeply moving in this whakaaro. Not because it asks us to hold tightly to grief, but because it offers a way to gently release it.
Matua Rangi Mātāmua describes how, through the rituals of Matariki, we acknowledge those who have died and entrust them to the stars. In doing so, remembrance and renewal sit side by side. The past is honoured, while space is created for what is yet to come.
‘Kua whetūrangitia koe.’
You have become a star.
For many of us, those who have passed continue to shape our lives long after they are gone. We hear their sayings in our own voices. We recognise their habits in our children. We carry their lessons, humour, courage and kindness into situations they will never physically see.
These too are gifts. Gifts handed down across generations. Gifts that cannot be wrapped. Gifts that arrive through memory, example and love.
At Mākoha, we often reflect on how the most meaningful gifts are rarely the objects themselves. They are the relationships, stories and intentions carried within them.
In this season of Matariki, we are reminded that some of the greatest taonga we receive come from those who entrusted their wisdom and aroha to us before becoming part of the night sky.
As you gather with whānau this Matariki, we hope there is time to remember those who helped shape your path, and to recognise the gifts they placed in your hands.
Kua puta te murimuri aroha, kia ea.
Nā tātou o Mākoha,