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.

Another Day

It's not enough
that is on my plate
a disease with no cure
no cure, yet, to create

excruciating pain
where did you come from?
where will you go?
when you are done

strong and able
I was once before
after you arrived
I was on all four

disbelieving, that this
was happening to me
irreversible damage
to my once healthy body

my energies drained
fatigue sets in
My question to God
what was my sin?

my body
red with rage
not from anger
my body
its cage

I have to go on
so much to do
will you let me
live this through

settled and uncomfortable
not trusting this
a slow patient breath
of life, I will miss

My disease and I, coexist
day by day
I pray to God
to see another day

Blogs

on Rheumatoid Arthritis is plentiful and abound on the Internet. In my search for knowledge about this disease that has taken up residence in my body, I am the gracious host and have learned to co-exist with this foreign invader by administering medicine that will help to keep the swelling from gravitating upwards making my fingers look like pudgy sausages and from the excruciating pain that rides along with it. Of course there are side effects and a myriad of other problems that come with taking these medicines. My RAtologist is keeping a close watch on my blood and my state of mind during my appointments. There are many helpful and informative sights on RA originating from society and centers for health. Knowledgeable as they are, the blogs or rather reports are very detailed as far as talking about the factors, symptom's and depth of the disease. I find comfort in the blogs written in part by people like me that have a life, family, work and are trying to understand the "why me?" syndrome. I remember when I was first diagnosed with this disease. I was thinking, "ok, it's not Cancer" and I wasn't really too worried about it. After delving into the Internet on any and all information about rheumatoid arthritis, I was exhausted. The only visual material wording that stunned me in all of these blogs were the words, "No Cure". At least Cancer has a cure! My emotions were overwhelmed and I cried for a few moments at a time. There was too much for me to do before I become totally debilitated by this disease. It took me a few months say the word "disease" and acknowledge it as such. After a healthy amount of reading and extensive visits with my RAtologist, my state of mind is in a better place and attitude. I have learned to cope with this foreign resident and have given everything it needs so that we can peacefully co-exist one day at a time.