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One week after Alamu Joseph met Heather, he asked her mother if he could marry her. They wedded the following year when she was just seventeen – a marriage that spanned 46 incredible years and resulted in five children, 13 grandchildren and three great grandchildren (soon to be five).

Alamu came to New Zealand from Samoa during the time of the dawn raids. Despite working as a security officer, he was asked for his papers during the dawn raids and decided to choose a European name ‘Joseph’ in an effort to conform to New Zealand society. It wasn’t until many years into their marriage that Heather learned his name was actually Alamu. He still preferred to be addressed as Joseph.

Alamu Joseph was a man whose opinion and wisdom was highly valued by his large extended family, and the wider community. He selflessly helped others and instilled this value in his own family.

“He knew what it was like to come from a poor background, so he would always help others who needed it,” says Heather. He was proud to see his children inherit his desire to care for others and influence positive change. His son, for example, advocated for Samoan to be included in his college’s languages curriculum through to NCEA Level 3 after learning the language would not be taught passed Level 1. He went on to be Head Boy, excelled in his tertiary studies, and is now a Social Worker.

Respect is the cornerstone of Samoan culture, and this was strongly emulated in Heather and Alamu Joseph’s family. “They learned so much from their Dad, especially respect for their elders and the importance of caring for each other and the next generation,” says Heather. “And everything we did was for our family. Our life was outside: going to the beach, taking the kids to cricket or rugby, whatever. We were always outdoors people.”

In 2016 Alamu Joseph was dealt a tragic blow when he became a tetraplegic. “He was a machine setter by trade and constantly lifting heavy steel – there was no help with lifting back then,” Heather explains. The damage was compounded by him having a narrowing in the spinal canal, a genetic condition that can be more prevalent in the Samoan population. Lumbar spinal surgery was unsuccessful, and he returned home to Heather with a diagnosis of never being able to move again. For someone who was so active, social and a pillar of the community, it was a devastating blow for the couple.

“I cared for him for at home for seven months, and I became very unwell myself,” says Heather. “I cared for him day and night, and it was a long, tough seven months.” A district nurse suggested putting Alamu Joseph into an aged care facility that could provide the round-the-clock care he needed, while giving Heather the chance to recover her own health. This was a turning point, as the nurses and Heather worked with him to recover some movement – something neither of them had expected. “They were absolutely marvellous, together they got him to the point where he could use his power chair and a laptop – he even managed to take a couple of steps,” Heather smiles. “He loved his laptop, especially during Covid because it was our means of contact.”

Alamu Joseph remained at the aged care facility for eight years. “I have to say, we had a lot of good times throughout those eight years,” says Heather. “He got to see grandchildren graduate, turn 21, and see one great grandchild and know that another one was coming. So we did have some good times.” Alamu Joseph loved to make people happy, and would visit everyone in the facility with a cheeky joke on hand.

Eventually Alamu Joseph’s condition deteriorated to the point where Hospice became involved to provide support, assisting with pain and symptom management with the aid of a syringe driver. “He was in a lot of pain and was just taking oral pain relief,” says Heather. “When Hospice stepped in they set up his medications intravenously, which really, really helped.”

Heather didn’t leave Alamu Joseph’s side during those final days, sleeping in a lazyboy chair and playing his favourite island music to lull him to sleep at night. “It was just us when he took his last breath, and I know he would have wanted it that way,” she says.

Hospice continued to support Heather, providing grief and bereavement counselling for the year following Alamu Joseph’s passing, support she says was the best she could ever ask for.

Alamu Joseph did not want his funeral to be a burden for his family, and was strongly against the Samoan practice of fa’alavelave, where family members contribute money towards large funerals. “The kids knew their Dad didn’t want anything fancy, that just wasn’t him,” says Heather. “He was such a down-to-earth person and he didn’t want to see us struggle trying to pay for things. But we did have a coffin with gorgeous Samoan carvings on it, made by a Tongan carver. We incorporated those carvings on his headstone, and I’m getting a band on my wrist with that design in it too.”

Heather also had experience with Hospice from the time her mother had terminal cancer, around 30 years ago. “I looked after her, and Hospice gave me such great help to keep her at home until she passed away in hospital,” she says.

In the true spirit of her husband, Heather does everything she can to help others, particularly helping people to know that Hospice is there and how they can help. “There’s so much out there that people don’t know, especially Pacific Island families,” she says. “For a lot of families, they want help but are not always aware of services available, or how to access them. I wholly believe whatever life I have left on this earth is to help other people. Alamu Joseph gave me the realisation that if everybody just helped somebody else out, what a better place we would live in.”