A Day with the Evans Family

    My son Manny,  who recently took his oath for the United States Air Force reserve,  and I spent the day hanging out together yesterday.  He has been living with his Dad for a few years since we moved from a very large duplex I shared with a co-worker in Millbrae.  In between spending a year and a half in Oahu,  Hawaii attending the Waimanalo Job Corps and receiving his GED and helping his Uncle Ben with his boat building business in Kapolei,  Manny has grown into a fine young man.
     Searching at the Sprint Store for smart phones is a daunting task let alone the prices on these pieces of electronics makes you want to walk back out.  My son's phone is in need of repair and we were advised to call the insurance people which we'll do at another time.  By this time,  hunger got the best of us and we drove through Inn-n-Out burger.  At this time,  I received a phone call from my good friend and co-worker   Carmen,  who had just landed at San Francisco International Airport with her young 14 year old son Maurice.  They're here to visit her mother,  Diane,  who I affectionately refer to her as " mama ".  We made arrangements to meet at Daly City Bart so that we could all visit with mama at her new Studio apartment in San Francisco.  Driving into "The City" is always adventurous and not for the faint of heart.  I love driving there and have been asked to do so numerous times to do so.

     Visiting Mama's apartment,  she lives in the heart of the Tenderloin District,  rich, vibrant, loud, colorful and all of which is characteristic of a lively neighborhood.  Mama loves it there and it shows,  she is flourishing!  Her Senior Studio apartment is very spacious, bright and in her words, "I can watch the parade from my window"!  Mama has all that she wants and needs within minutes from her doorstep,  corner grocery store, fruit stands,  numerous ethnic restaurants, BART, Muni, Taxi's and of course walking.  Manny and Maurice walk to Glide Memorial Church then onto Maurice's Uncle Kwame's Apartment a few blocks down. We all gather at Mama's apartment and walk to a local Middle Eastern Restaurant that they've frequented before and highly recommend.  Food was plentiful and spicy,  conversation was endless and the complimentary Chai Tea flowed freely to the point of us drinking it all.  Nightfall started to cloak the area and it was time to leave and goodbye's to Mama and Kwame and her new apartment.  Manny and I drove Carmen and Maurice to the San Francisco International Airport for Maurice's flight to San Diego to visit more family for the Holidays.  After some conversation of our own,  it was time for me to say good-night to my son.  On my drive home,  I realize how Adult our conversations have become and how I will miss the little boy that he once was and embrace the young man he has become.  

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.