Ohana (family)

A celebration of life brought my brother and I on an 8 hour road trip to Las Vegas for my cousin, Pumpkins funeral. Her full name is Melvalyn Yvette "Keala" Kahalehoe Manuma. In Hawaii, many of the children are given "nick names" growing up and her's is Pumpkin. I'll have to ask my cousin how that came about because there always is a story to how we got our names. The drive was long and luckily I was able to rent a car from Enterprise Car Rental at the San Francisco Airport for $9.99 a day, awesomely good deal when you're on a budget and my car that I primarily drive was in the shop and the cost was over $2600.00 to repair so that pretty much wiped out my checking account. The services were moved from Saturday to a Sunday because of some dispute over money and planning arrangements that needed more preparation. I picked up my brother late into Saturday morning and the drive took about 8 hours with his driving 110 miles an hour at the latter end of our trip. I was very relieved when we got to Las Vegas that there were no Highway Patrol that stopped us for speeding. Arriving into Las Vegas and now we had to search for our cousins who were staying at the California Hotel and we were to spend the night with them. Just by chance, they were still at the Main Street Station Buffet finishing dinner. We joined them for dinner and our reunions are always bittersweet. We did not grow up together, per se, but often when we visited either in Hawaii or California, it was due to our parents and relatives. We did what kids do, teased, played, ate, played more and got in trouble when we did not mind our parents or elders. It was good, clean fun. Being together brought back all those memories and reminiscing when we were younger. Now looking and taking pictures of ourselves, I can see our parents where they once were and the age has caught up to us. Gatherings bring some comfort to us and a spirit that is always re-kindled when we gather but it's unfortunate that it happens when a loved one passes. Celebrations are less as I age and funerals or "Celebrations of life" become more common in my life. My cousin's celebration of life was a true testament to her family's love for her and she will truly be missed. Rest in love my dear cousin, Pumpkin. I love you always.

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.

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.