Grief can carve a new path
Life threw everything Leigh Albert’s way, but rather than sink into despair, she used her darkest point to carve a new path.
At 37, a sudden widow and single mother-of-three, she stopped fearing failure and pursued a dream of becoming a doctor.
‘‘I want to be an example of hard work,’’ she said. ‘‘I want the takeaway to be . . . life doesn’t end with one challenge. It’s an opportunity to grow.’’
Now a third-year medical student, her courage and academic achievement has not gone unnoticed. In June she was presented with the Ngārimu VC and 28 Māori Battalion scholarship, an honour she said left her speechless.
‘‘The name Ngārimu VC and the 28 Māori Battalion are synonymous with hardship . . . with pain and loss. That sentiment has always been entrenched inside our whānau, and especially through Māoridom.’’
A family connection with the battalion made it all the more meaningful for Albert, who was raised ‘‘surrounded by military prestige’’. Her grandfather had been the command sergeant major for Charlie Company in the battalion. Her father also joined the military, fighting in Vietnam.
She always thought she’d join them or become a doctor. When a teacher she admired told her she didn’t have what it takes for medicine, the decision felt made for her.
Albert joined the Defence Force around 2002. At the same time she began studying health sciences, then a postgraduate qualification focusing on Māori health. She started dating her partner and soulmate, Wairongoa Renata, also in the military. They left Northland for Palmerston North, and had a daughter and twin boys by the time Albert completed her studies.
‘‘The same day my certificate came, I was deployed to the Middle East,’’ she said.
She was deployed several times during her career, but one of her proudest moments was helping Kiwis. She was part of the team on its way to a training exercise when the 2011 Christchurch earthquake hit. She remembered arriving at the CTV building where 115 people would later be found dead.
Her life changed forever in 2018. Renata took their tamariki and cousins to swim for daughter Mānea’s birthday. Their twin sons got stuck in a rip. Mānea dove in to save them, followed by Renata. Mānea and the other children survived, but Renata drowned.
Albert and the family were overwhelmed by grief. They took time to heal, but she ‘‘had to make a decision’’, she said.
‘‘I could wrap myself in grief and be destroyed by it, or use it as a superpower and smash through some walls.’’
She decided to leave active duty, telling her bosses she didn’t want to make her kids orphans.
She said the loss broke down her walls, and she lost a fear of failure. She applied for medical school. With the support of the NZDF, her whānau and friends, she got in. In 2020, she and her tamariki moved to Dunedin.
Albert was a platoon sergeant, a mother, a widow, a med student and proud wahine Māori. But to her, she’s ‘‘just Leigh’’.
‘‘All I see is the next hurdle. You overcome one, then see the next one. I used to only see the hurdle in front of me, but now . . . I know I’m propelling myself and my kids into the future.’’
She hoped to return to the NZDF, but planned on becoming a rural GP after graduating.