During last year's lockdown the Stott family were separated by borders through what would be the hardest year of their lives. Katy Stott shares her harrowing story.
Katy Stott is counting her blessings her family
During last year's lockdown the Stott family were separated by borders through what would be the hardest year of their lives. Katy Stott shares her harrowing story.
Katy Stott is counting her blessings her family are united as a bubble for this year's lockdown. Last year, she and her young daughters were separated for ten months from husband and dad Aaron while locked down halfway across the globe nursing, in isolation, her dying mother who deserved a dignified farewell. Covid robbed her of that.
Katy's mum Gerti lived in South Africa, where Katy left in 2009. An esteemed nurse for many years, in July 2019, Gerti, 66, was diagnosed with the incurable motor neurone disease which causes the brain and nerves to progressively weaken. While Aaron, a Kiwi, stayed in New Zealand to work, Katy and the girls, Chrissie, 9 and Allie, 7, flew to Cape Town to spend one last Christmas with their "Gogo" – Zulu for granny. They were due to return in March.
"We were living in Wellington and our lease was up and we were running round looking for a house and I stopped and said to my husband, 'You know what, I think I should go home to be with mum for her last Christmas'," explains Katy.
"Part of why we moved to New Zealand was to be near Aaron's parents in their old age. My mum still was 20 years behind them, so we planned to go back and look after her one day, but not this soon."
They put their belongings in storage and Aaron, a chef, moved north to work with his sister's family business and fund the priceless trip. The family Christmas went as planned and Gerti loved it, tells Katy.
"We had a really special Christmas, it was a lovely time. Mum was a very pragmatic and stoic person. She probably struggled more than we realised. She was just a single mum keeping it together and, as a mum, I can understand that now. She showed little emotion but, with motor neurone, it puts you in a vulnerable state where she had nothing to lose so, in her final year, that emotion came out in excessive crying or laughing. The girls were really proud when they could make their grandmother laugh.
"Motor Neurone is a very cruel disease where you don't get a fighting chance and she embraced it and we made the best of it while we were together."
With those special memories firmly sealed, in March, as planned, they said their final goodbyes and Katy and the girls travelled to Johannesburg to spend time with friends before returning to New Zealand. Then Covid struck.
Although married to a Kiwi, Katy needed to apply for a visa to return to New Zealand and had begun the process in January. She later realised, with Covid-19 brewing, the delay was likely due to students fleeing China.
"It was completely normal. People were joking about Covid, nothing even dawned on us," she recalls.
Then borders shut and the country went into lockdown.
They had no option but to return to her mother's and nurse her in isolation until the end.
"We had to watch mum deteriorate and she would have hated that," says Katy breaking down. "She always said, 'Parents don't die in front of their children'. That was the last thing they could do to protect their children and that was taken away from her too.
"There's a dignity that my mum didn't get because of Covid."
Between Katy and her step-father, they nursed Gerti in isolation as the support that had been in place, ceased.
"In Cape Town, we couldn't even leave our front door, we were completely isolated. I was trying to care for mum, home school in the earlier days, and apply for my visa. I wanted to go home to my husband and Covid took our choices away and it still does now.
"Everyone was tired and stressed but there is nowhere you can go. We couldn't even go for a walk around the block. At the same time, you're trying to make the most of the time you have and a lot of people say, 'At least you were there for your mum', but it wasn't the way it should be."
To help ease their stress and for everyone's mental health, they placed Gerti in hospice. However, she hated it and lasted four days. The second attempt resulted in her being evacuated due to an in-house Covid outbreak.
"My step-father and I would drive for 40 minutes to visit her daily. He would go in and visit for ten minutes while I waited in the car, then he'd come out and I would go in. Then, on around her fourth day, one of the nurses had tested positive for Covid and they evacuated and we had to get an ambulance to take her. They weren't very keen on coming to get someone who had potentially been exposed."
Gerti directed her own nursing throughout, guiding Katy and her step father. However, once she needed to be put under sedation, "suddenly, my mum couldn't make the decisions and we didn't know what to do. She had nursed herself until the end."
On July 1, they knew the end was near and hospice was called.
"Hospice arrived wearing hazmat suits. You're balling your eyes out because your mum's dying and they just want to hug you but they can't and you can't hug anyone."
As well as hospice, as per protocol, the ambulance arrived, the police and then the undertakers. The following Zoom funeral, Katy describes as probably the worst experience of her life.
"Mum had her wishes and her songs picked out and Covid took that away too. Because there was such a big line-up at the crematorium, we weren't even told when she was cremated."
No longer able to bear being surrounded by the memories, she and the girls went to stay at an Airbnb for the duration and, between her and Aaron and a lot of support, stepped things up to get them home. Finally, mid-July, a visa was granted and a flight booked and paid. However, there was another set-back when the flights, which turned out to be unconfirmed, were cancelled amid political disagreement between the countries.
"I went from nursing my mum and not getting to mourn her, then fighting the New Zealand government to let us home. The girls were also writing letters and drawing pictures saying, 'Please let us come home'."
They finally secured a legitimate flight and flew out on September 9.
"Getting home was so difficult. We had a police escort and, every step of the way, we wondered if we'd get turned around. We didn't care where we were in isolation, as long as it was New Zealand. It was so good to be back. We had no home but we didn't care, we were just too tired."
The reunion with Aaron was "amazing", Katy says.
"I didn't want to see him through the fence. I'd see a lot of families waiting through the fence and I said, 'Whatever you do, don't come early. The way isolation works is, if you land at 4am, like we did, you're allowed out at 4am. I hadn't seen my husband in ten months so we decided on 5am.
"He drove up the night before and stayed in a motel across the road and was waiting there on time. The military come to the front of the hotel and carry all your stuff, you have a thermometer check and you're walked to the door.
"I've been with my husband around 13 years, we travelled around the world and I went through the hardest thing in my life without him. And it was hard for him because he couldn't support his wife and he was great mates with my mum."
The family decided to settle in Haruru, where they have a tranquil spot overlooking the falls and Aaron works at the nearby Waitangi Treaty Grounds. Here, Katy could begin the grieving process and, in July, they finally held a memorial for Gerti.
"Mum's anniversary came and I wanted to do something so I made a garden for her and we had a service. I said at the service; When she was sick, I knew what grace was for the first time. She was so graceful even with a disease. And then I understood what mercy was when it was time for her to go. And now, after the year we've had and in her garden, I just want peace. Covid robbed me of everything that someone goes through when someone dies."
So when lockdown was announced last month, the family embraced it.
"At first, when they made the announcement last week, I could see my oldest daughter processing it. Lockdown to them means something different and traumatic. It's been really interesting seeing them ease into it and enjoy it."
She says the girls grew up fast after their experience in South Africa.
"They were right there beside me, they're such strong young women. The three of us slept in this double bed for three months, there was just us. My older girl would be the one to hug me when I was crying, she became my sidekick really. Ten months is a long time and they experienced some massive life skills. But she's been allowed to be a kid again this year.
"We never take for granted that we're together. We keep walking around saying how blessed we are to be together this time. Home learning, working from home and a few life stresses are nothing compared to what our lives looked like last year.
"We feel incredibly blessed to be riding this wave together, as a physical unit."
The writer bemoans the impact of the motor car.