Everyone Has a Story to Tell

Kia ora and thanks for being here!

This blog is a bit late because I spent last week saying goodbye to my wonderful Grandma, Noeline Arnott.

She was 91 and lived an incredibly full life. She was a writer, a scholar, a traveller and a dear friend to many.

And she taught me so much about creativity. So I thought I’d share a bit about her life with you today.

Grandma was born in 1934. Her maiden name was Small, and at her peak she was 4 foot 11 and three quarters.

As a teenager, she learned to fly at the Nelson aerodrome. She dreamed of becoming a commercial pilot, but legally, she was considered too short to reach the pedals.

Writing became her vocation. She wrote poetry, had many short stories published and wrote a novel in her later life.

In her 40s, with my Grandad and her two kids (my mum and uncle), she began travelling . She was enamoured by the world and would revisit the same places many times, making life-long friends across several continents.

In her 50s, Grandma trained as an anthropologist — although she’d been conducting her own informal fieldwork for years by that point! She mentored countless students and acted as editor and cheerleader to her colleagues and friends.

Grandma believed that everyone had a story to tell. She championed people, even in their darkest moments, and helped to bring their stories and creative vision to life.

Her own interests were many and varied — from China, to grunge music, to addiction and homelessness, to WWII aircraft, to politics, to gay rights and beyond. She had an immersive curiosity.

Grandma was also hilarious. She once had a short story published in an American anthology, and the publisher made a terrible typographical error — describing her life in New Zealand as “dull” instead of “full”. In her response to the editor, she noted that the difference between a “d” and an “f” might seem small to most — unless, of course, you happened to be a duck…

Grandma was the queen of rebirth and reinvention. She was surprising. She loved to shock. She defied constraints.

She taught that we’re never too old, our interests are never to niche, and our creativity is always deserving of our time, energy and resources.

She was a huge influence in my life. I have degrees in anthropology and religion because of her. When I became a lawyer, we’d talk power and politics. And over the last 10 years, as I’ve reconnected to my own creativity, we’ve been able to talk about art and life and expression. I’m so grateful to have had her with me for so long.

Grandma wasn’t scared of death and she’d been thinking about it for a long time. She was ready. On her birthday last December, I gave her a rose quartz crystal and told her it was to help ease the passage when it came. Since then, every time we spoke she’d complain that the crystal wasn’t working because she was still here. “The purpose wasn’t to the quicken the process, Grandma!”, I’d exclaim.

But last week it finally worked. She had a stroke and died in hospital a few days later surrounded by her family.

As per her wishes, we held a private memorial with close friends and family on Saturday, which was also Valentines Day. Many people spoke and it was such a gift to hear how she touched their lives. People spoke about the inspiration they found in her, her good humour and non-judgement, and the support she provided through loss and hardship. I think everyone left feeling a little more radical and ready to dive into the project of their lives — which is how I feel too.

Thanks Grandma!

All I can think now is that she’s out there and onto her next adventure.