We Passed!!!

I was speaking for my son and I as he drove into the DMV test area in Fairfield, California to finish up his driving test for the 2nd time which resulted in the most grandest smile on my son's face I had ever seen in his lifetime and a heavy sigh of relief from me. It was a successful drive test day. It started yesterday when I traded my "mom hat" and became the "drive instructor" and helped him to train for all the nuances, pitfalls and unknown "what if" scenarios that could befall a new driver. His first drivers test a few weeks ago was fine until he came to what we call the dreaded "yellow box". It is the broken lined oblong box that separates traffic that allows you into the area before safely crossing over to either side before or after on-coming traffic to make your left or right turn. He was automatically disqualified "DQ" as was written on his test when he was asked to make a left hand turn from his lane. He was completely unaware of this "box" area and proceeded to rush through the box before oncoming traffic was approaching him and made it to the area that he was advised to go. By doing that, he failed to safely drive into the box area and wait for oncoming traffic to pass and then proceed safely into making his left hand turn. We went over and over this scenario for quite some time until it was "Pa'a" (Hawaiian) or burned in his mind. He did rather well and I prayed to the Good Lord today to watch over him. It was a big relief to both of us on his accomplishment. After the test was over, we drove to Inn-N-Out burger to celebrate our victory and again the "yellow box" came up and he handled it like a champ! I have no doubt that he will be a good driver as in everything that he does, he does well. I drop him off at base which I'm sure he will nap well. As for me, it was a long drive back home but now happy to know that the sacrifices that I make for my son and my now adult children, I do this out of love.

"Mental Ward"

     That statement resonates in the back of my mind and brings me back to when I was a young girl of 10 years old.  My family was vacationing in Oahu, Hawaii visiting with my mother and fathers huge extended family.  My mother has 5 brothers, all but one brother,  is deceased.  My father has 19 brothers and sisters,  all but two remain living.  One beautiful bright warm Saturday morning in Laie,  we were going to visit with Aunty Pua at the Hospital.  I remembered hearing in hushed whispers, "Mento Ward" in Hawaiian pidgen language amongst my aunts and uncles.  "You going Mento Wahd go see Aunty?" They knew who she was without saying her name outright.
     The drive was not long,  sitting in the back seat with my brother Doug, sister Laurie and a few cousins along with my mom and dad in the front seat.  I can still relive that day as if it were yesterday.  We were so glad to finally be out of the car as we ran around the parking lot of the Hospital.  Our sound of laughter broke the silence of the trade-winds as the sun beat down on us.  Mom and dad "shushed" us as we walked towards what looked like a Grand Mansion with beautiful white columns and the ocean blue as it's background.  How can this be a Hospital?  I thought it to be of someones home, it was my Aunty Pua's home.  After weaving our way through a myriad of doors,  I remembered coming out of a door onto an open Lanai (patio) looking out towards the ocean and great massive trees spreading branch to branch as if shaking hands and breathing the warm scent of gardenia and plumerias into my body.  That moment of serenity was broken with shrieking and screaming and then laughter but not of children,  they were people like my mom and dad's age.  I turned to see old people, young people,  people rocking back and forth facing a wall or a window,  people chattering on and laughing at the toy rocking horse.  Nurses in white uniforms, cleaning and speaking with their energetic charges.  Frightened,  I quickly searched for my mom and dad who were not too far and was sitting and talking with an elderly woman.  I remembered her face and eyes hanging so low and sad but she was happy to see my parents and us children.  I saw my dad petting her hand and she had her head on my dads shoulder.  This was the Aunty Pua we came to visit.  Fearful,  I stayed close to mom and dad.  I could hear my mom speaking with Aunty Pua in Hawaiian, crying and heartbroken.
     Today these "Mental Wards" have politically correct names now.  Psychiatric is the word most commonly used.  Hospital and facilities to also mark the place or residence of a "Patient" and not Koo-Koo, idiot or Crazy man/woman.  My daughter Pua, has been a resident on the 3rd floor of the Psychiatric Unit at the San Mateo General Hospital for several weeks now.  Her pregnancy was terminated on Thursday Jan 17th in the afternoon.  When I received her conservatorship paperwork from the County of San Mateo to let me know of their procedure known as "Therapeutic Abortion",  my memories overwhelmed me with thoughts on how we used to view the mentally ill and how we used to shut them away, "out of sight, out of mind".  I'm very glad for our progress and cures and how far we have become as an American Nation.  We have moved forward from this stigma that many countries still discriminate against it, ridicule,  lock people away and even put to death.  God Bless America! 

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.