Time for family

Our "post Thanksgiving" dinner turned out to be an incredible moment in time for me. In attendance was my brother Doug, whom i haven't seen or spoken to in 3 years, my oldest daughter Nani, whom i have recently connected with, my daughter Pua, whom We keep in constant contact with, my partners daughter Camden, who visits regularly, my son Manny who sometimes thinks he knows more than me, my best friend from work, Darrell who's father recently passed away, Steven, Nani's boyfriend and Pua's housemate Judith all came together to celebrate the spirit of giving thanks. It truly was a sprited thanksgiving. There was talk, discussion, laughter, harmony, good heartedness, tender moments, tears of joy, forgivness and the fragile bond of what friendship and family is. All of these qualities and more is what human spirit is about. It has been what I have been missing for quite some time. This is usually a "dark" time for me as my owm parents have passed away many years ago but it stills feels like only yesterday that i was visiting with my parents while they spoil their grand kids. I dont think i will ever lose this feeling but a reunion of this type helps to ease my pain of missing what i need, the spirit and togetherness of family.

Hey Mom, I'm getting married

That's what the early morning text read when I woke up this morning. It was from my oldest daughter Nani who has been estranged from me for many months. She is currently living with her boyfriend in Pacifica, California. The text reads, "Hey mom, I'm getting married next year. I love you and would really like you to be there" That text came in the form of a Facebook message. The message was unclear but it offered a chance to finally, maybe talk to my daughter whom I have been missing for quite some time. So far, no other contact has been received other than calling her phone and speaking with her fiancee and letting him know to give her the message to call me back. I wish she would have called me to give me the message of her joyous news and not by Facebook message. But this is the digital age of social media and a form of communication that will soon be lost. I know that I would have called and given the message personally through phone or in person. I do hope to catch up with her soon and share the details of her event.

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.

Mental Ilness

is pervasive and crosses all facets of human life. The Harvard grad doctors make their diagnosis and hand down their unkind verdicts to overwhelmed and financially strapped family members as they listen to what the specialists say. How do I cope? How do I fulfill my obligation as a parent? The helpless feeling that I get when I can't do for my own child. I can only take a step back, observe and listen.
I have noticed a significant improvement in my second daughter, Pua, during this year. She is much more coherent, clear and a very good conversationalist. I haven't observed any suicidal tendencies and haven't noticed any more cuts on her arms. We are very close to where she would tell me if she has cut or injured herself. Her outlook on life isn't as bleak as it was two years ago where her mind was in a very dark place. A place I wasn't sure if she could get out from or recognize. With a very good mental health system at the Crestwood facility in Sacramento, they gave her the time she needed to grow into a young woman who today, is much more sure of herself. I am very proud of how far she has come. There were days during her teen years where I wasn't sure if she would make it to her 18th or 21st birthdays. I always had it in the back of my mind that a phone call from the facility or police station would be like a soldier in the military and the chaplain would drive up and knock on your door to give you the news about your child's demise. I would dread that day and to be honest, I don't want to think about it but it is always there in my mind. Pua, has grown into a beautiful young woman who has a lot on her mind. If I could get her to write her own blog, she would have so much to say as a young woman dealing with schizophrenia and depression. She has written very graphic letters depicting her life on the edge, the voices that she constantly hears, the cursing and anger in her words spewing venom on what is going on in her mind. The constant pulling and wires firing in her brain, the sometimes empty look in her eyes of one without a soul. The terror of leaving her at home with family members who did not want to be alone with her for their fear of her and what she could be capable of. I'm talking about my brother who is 5'11" 285 lbs and scared of his neice who is all of 5'6" 145lbs! For the most part of my visits, she is always supervised and I never leave her alone anymore with family members. Our visiting time is always together, shopping, restaurants and overnight visits. The only time she is out of my sight is when she smokes or goes to the restroom. She is not a flight risk and I trust her time out of the facility is doing her good. She is looking forward to getting her own apartment again, this time being a little older and more confident of living on her own. My daughter is a survivor and I love her.

Holidays

I'm sorry for not writing anything in between. Life has kept me busy. My second daughter Pua is in Sacramento. She was in the hospital and is now at a Mental facility which has close monitoring of their patients. That's a good thing for her because she needs the discipline of being in a controlled facility, medication fed and cordoned off from society because of the effects from "falling off the wagon" can do to you as a young person. She is easily influenced, boyfriends come and go like running water and none of them really care about her but that's OK because none of them matter to her. She will take the "drink" or an occasional drug offering (inhaled or ingested) from whomever will offer it to her. As far as I know and have seen, she does not "shoot up" any drugs. She worries constantly about the medication she's taking and knows what ones work for her and which ones that do not. She is very vocal to her doctors and will let them know which ones make her gain weight or make her fatigued. She's a wonderful advocate for herself, loves to write poems and stories about her young life. Pua can get highly charged about a subject and is very passionate about life sometimes. Then there are the darker days where her voices have taken over and say things to her that one can only imagine. She has tried to kill herself several times by either overdosing on her medications or slitting her wrists. Pua will have conversations with them as if they were right there in front of her, cursing, angry and screaming at them to leave her alone. I can see the tiredness in her face and in the whole of her body when she goes through episodes like this. She excuses herself to nap and all the while she is awake and can't sleep because of the silent torment that her voices have waged war against her. To my little girl, now a woman, the thought of death comes easily.