Pam
Shand

I rediscovered my cousin Pam a couple of years ago when her daughter, Amy, reached out to me to see if a Facebook post by our local museum that mentioned Ralph Moses was our Ralph Moses. Yes, the post was about Pam’s and my grandfather during his early years in La Canada, California. Pam reached out to me and we started an occasional email conversation. I learned that Pam and I are kindred spirits, and I wished then and wish now that we had been able to get to know each other while we were growing up. Pam was the youngest of three siblings while I was the youngest of six siblings. When I was born Pam was happy that she wasn’t the youngest cousin any more. Though there were plenty of girl cousins in the extended Moses family, Pam had the dubious fortune to be the only girl among the younger cousins. There were her brother, Clarke, my two older brothers and me and the two youngest sons of the Morrow family. It was hard for her to find common ground with all of us boys, and we didn’t know what to do with Pam. Now I find myself wishing for more time on FaceTime, more shared stories, and more shared love. I treasure my new connection with Amy and Adam and Tink and Brett, and want you to know that you have a forever home here in the house that Ralph built in La Canada.

When I think about Pam, I realise she has been part of my life for such a long time.

I first knew her through Montessori in the 1990s. I remember travelling to Dunedin to spend time in her primary class at Arthur Street School, staying with Pam and Brett out on the peninsula, and walking up the hill. Over the years, our paths continued to cross at Montessori gatherings and professional events. Pam was so gracious about accepting the challenge of writing for Montessori News and sharing her wonderful wisdom. She had such a special—and delicious—way of saying things that somehow made you realise you understood more than you thought you did.

In more recent years, when I was living in Wellington, Rob and I visited Pam and Brett several times at Te Horo for lunch. Those were very special occasions, full of interesting conversations. Pam brought such curiosity and generosity of thought and intellect to everything. I remember the particular look that would come over her face when she said, “Oh, I want to come back to this”—and she always did. She listened, reflected and followed through.

When Rob had terminal cancer a couple of years ago, Pam was there at the end of a text or an occasional phone call. She had an extraordinary ability to reflect the joy of life back to me and to make me feel that perhaps I was managing better than I thought I was. She was a great sharer of joy and love. I found it so comforting when Pam said she was lighting a candle for us. It made me feel that we were truly held in her thoughts.

In recent years, she had become one of those people I wanted to tell when something momentous happened. In the final weeks of her life, we were in touch, and she wrote to me, “Thanks for a life of wonderful role-modelling and much more.” Her words surprised me, because I had never imagined that I might have been a role model for Pam. Perhaps, in some way, I had been. But she had certainly been a role model for me for a very long time.

Pam will be missed by so many. Although she was only an occasional presence in my day-to-day life, she was a deeply significant one, and I feel her loss profoundly.

My love and thoughts are with all those who were closest to her, and particularly with you, Brett. You and Pam were such wonderful companions in life. She leaves behind so many precious memories, but I know that you will be feeling her absence more deeply than anyone.

Moe mai rā, e Pam, i runga i te rangimārie.

It's kind of impossible to pick a single memory, a single image, a single story. I will remember Pam for over-stuffing tacos. For loving the dogs. For always asking such good questions. For wanting to move to Peka Peka so she could be a part of the intergenerational conversations around the big table. For her beloved garden, and for how furious she was the bunnies for eating it. For the number of exclamations marks she used, with such enthusiasm, in her emails. For the sound of the laundry door closing, knowing it was a Pam. And even now, sometimes I find myself hearing the laundry door being closed and I think 'Oh it's just Pam'. How I wish it was just Pam. (Photo, Christmas at Peka Peka, 2017)

When I think of Pam, the picture that comes up is this kind of shrewd, funny, knowing, playful? look that she would do. I don't have a word to describe it, but it was very cool :-D