The rush of the cloak was there when I first nervously woke up as a qualified lawyer. It was there the morning after my father, Jana Rajanayagam, had several strokes and heart attacks, after being the finance manager of the Upper Hutt City Council and then the North Shore City Council. In an instant, he was physically unable to work and, thankfully, received Government support through those tough times. I remember when I woke several years later, the morning after he died. The cloak didn't rush back that morning but arrived in slow motion, with a new kind of inescapable weight. The inch of time and the rush of a new identity was there the morning I woke up, after two hours of intermittent sleep, and looked at the most miraculous thing—our first baby, and then our second, and then our third. The cloak on those mornings carried vibrant new colours. I never could have imagined that inch of time and the rush of the cloak as a marker of the human experience we all share. 