Remembering mom

Friday, December 28, 2007 This was written a few years ago and thought i'd share my memory of her: Remembering my mother as an awe-inspiring, beautiful and sometimes fearsome woman as I look back on my sweet memories of her spirit. She passed away on this day in the year 2003 on the island of Oahu with my son and daughter by her side, crying, stroking her hair and kissing her head wishing that she were still here with us and letting her know how well loved she was and will always be. I couldn't wait to whisk her away from the stark coldness of the hospital, invading steeliness of her unfamiliar platform on which she silently drifted off to infinite sleep and the inaudible, unfriendly environment of her confines. Waiting for her on the island of Molokai is the fresh fragrant scent of the lush verdant mountains, the trade winds tenderly anticipating her spirit and the warm gentle lull of the ocean waiting with open arms for my mother's arrival.Being the eldest, I was responsible to take care of her in a way that she has taken care of me all of my years. I had her cremated to be buried atop of her mother's grave on the island of Molokai. I was bringing her home. With my Uncle Ben carving an elaborate Urn made of the finest Hawaiian wood, she would be carried by the love of the families in this way to her birthplace. Friends and families gathered at the Mormon Church to wish her well and we drove the long red dusty road of Molokai to her final resting place. Gathering under the warmth of the hot sun and the tropical breeze bringing the scent of fresh Pikake and white Ginger flowers, scents that she loved, Bishop Keanini offered words of sympathy and strength to all in our own journey and to remember the life and times of my mother. With the braveness and soul of a ten year old, my son at that time asked me if he could lay his grandmother into the ground. I was speechless and offered an affirming nod of approval to him. With my daughter by my side holding me as if to keep me from falling, we watched as my son carefully picked his grandmother's urn up, walked steadily to her resting area and gently placed her into the belly of her mother. His small sullen face watching her as she was unhurriedly descending into her entombment and through his veins flowed her strength and life. She was proud of her grandson and granddaughters. As an offering, native flowers were buried with her to carry into her afterlife, the scent of her homeland. My cousin Lani strummed the ukulele and sang "Aloha Oe". Everyone sang in unison bidding farewell to a wonderful woman and mother. My memories are vivid today as if the event happened only a moment ago. The sun on my face, the tropical breeze dancing through my hair and the scent of flowers converged all around us making it a day to remember my mother. I think of her often around this time and the life that she has given me. I love you and miss you very much, mom.