RDNZ_2026-ISSUE0809_DIGITAL MAGAZINE

reader ’ s digest 118 August/september 2026 Paul and Elysha’s Engagement - Walsh Bay - August 2015. My mother was another cornerstone, providing stability during school holidays and maintaining household systems when my capacity diminished. ‘You don’t have to do everything perfectly,’ she reminded me. ‘The boys need consistency and love more than ideal execution. Some days, good enough really is good enough.’ My father had been gone two and a half years by the time Elysha died. I sometimes wondered what he would have said to me now, though I think I already knew: he would have arrived without calling, handed me a ciabatta roll with mortadella, watched me eat it, and left. His absence overlaid Elysha’s – a quieter shape in the silence. Other family members were less consistent, making grand promises to the boys that went unfulfilled. I had to establish boundaries, requiring advance notice for visits and setting time limits that matched the boys’ emotional capacity. Even one of Elysha’s closest friends initially struggled. ‘I can’t come into your place yet,’ she admitted. ‘Everything reminds me of her.’ This honesty allowed for a necessary recalibration. Three months later, we met at a café – a neutral location where the boys had hot chocolate and the adults could talk, acknowledging the grief without being dominated by it. Beyond family and friends, the village extended to professionals whose expertise provided essential support. A grief counsellor offered developmental perspectives I could not have accessed alone, while legal and financial professionals managed practical matters with a sensitivity that eased the readersdigest.co.nz 119 reader ’ s digest Elysha in Hawaii. administrative burden of emotional devastation. The most unexpected support emerged from professional connections. Colleagues redistributed cases to accommodate periods when my capacity diminished, creating a buffer against client expectations. ‘We’re carrying some of your load so you can carry what only you can carry,’ my clerk explained. ‘That’s what chambers is for.’ A year later, this village continues to evolve. Some members have stepped back as acute crisis transformed into chronic adaptation; others remain as needs shift. New connections have emerged where our journey intersected with others navigating similar territory. While Melissa gradually resumed her life in Brisbane, she maintains regular communication with the boys. Ben and Emily, local café owners who were once merely cheerful acquaintances, have become a crucial part of our extended network. This village did not replace what was lost. No amount of support could substitute for Elysha’s specific presence. However, it provided an essential foundation when my capacity fluctuated under grief ’s unpredictable intensity and the demands of solo parenting. The village that assembled around us was neither perfect nor comprehensive. Yet its messy, inconsistent, and evolving presence demonstrated a profound capacity for genuine connection. It showed the value of showing up imperfectly but authentically – offering what is available rather than what is ideal and acknowledging limitation without surrendering the relationship when there are no easy answers.