52

and feeling like every bit of that age. Half a decade, 52, elderly, senior citizen or just plain OLD! I am living in a world where if you don't already have a job, you probably won't be able to get one unless you are super talented and have skills that can carry you over and win the confidence of that company or you know someone. I have every intention of holding onto my current job but have had lingering thoughts of driving a bus again. I used to drive for the Durham Transportation company that picks up and drops off school age children to where they need to go and I really enjoyed that type of job at that time. I'm not so sure I would enjoy working with school aged children again. Looking over the Craigslist ads and seeing the Stanford Marguerite Shuttle have openings every now and then AND they are willing to train you to get your class B license is an even greater incentive to apply. Plus, I secretly think they are waiting for me to apply! Not to be overly confident and not sure of who or what they are looking for but I question on Why there is always such a high turn over. Anyway, to get back to feeling old. I just dyed my hair today and it seems that I have to dye it every two to three weeks instead of every other month. The gray around my face makes me look like I have on an Eskimo hooded jacket and my age and tiredness shows there. When I dye my hair, it rejuvenates me and gives me a sense of youth. That's right, I am VAIN as is most women my age. Middle-aged crisis? Call it what you want but no one likes to feel old unless they themselves call it, which i have done on numerous occasions after turning 50. I can feel my body slow down, my skin sags in areas where it used to be tight and strong. My bones make more creaking sounds than my living-room floor. I have to move slowly in the morning upon wakening as to not strain anything. My Rheumatoid arthritis numbs my fingers and after exercising them while lifting my coffee cup to my dry mouth a few times, it takes quite a bit of effort to warm up. I haven't been to my Gym in over six months and yet I am paying $49.00 a month to keep it in the hopes that one day I will go. I keep telling myself, "after work I will go work out at the Gym" but the overtime that I get from work keeps me from going but really it's my procrastination that prevents me from doing just that. All in all, as long as the good lord lets me get up in the morning and I have a job that I can go to and put food on my table, pay what I need to pay and enjoy my family, then it's been a good life for me. I am grateful for what I have even if it's just a few gray hairs.

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.

Mortality

I have been to quite a few funerals for my family involving my cousins on both sides of my family. I've traveled to Honolulu, Hawaii, Las Vegas, NV and have been connected with Facebook as family send their condolences to distant relatives and their passing. Facebook keeps us connected in ways that were not possible 20 years ago and I'm very glad that this is possible today. Such a sad time of passing makes me think of my own mortality in this vibrant, beautiful and spirited world. I cannot imagine the possibilities of not living and always seeking the dark as many people often do. There must be a switch within me that prevents me from the darkness. People live through wars, atrocities that I cannot fathom, living on the streets in weather conditions I have never experienced and many more struggles that on one should have to go through but they do and they persevere against all odds. We go on. We shed tears of joy, sorrow, happiness and pain. We sometimes shed tears for no reason, does there have to be? My own sadness stems from the passing of my parents whom I love very much. They loved their children and family. My mother was a very giving individual as was my father. They always took care of family and friends. Where ever we lived family members always find us and a gathering that would be for a night ended up being for the whole weekend. This is where I receive the gift of caring, giving, loyalty, loving and generosity. All of my values, I credit my parents for this and can only hope that my children strive to attain these values and pass them onto whom ever they come in contact with. A paying if forward, if you will. I try to one good deed a day and have probably done too many deeds at work and people take a step back and realize the uniqueness of my gesture. Their guard comes down and they offer hugs, a smile, a word of thanks and realize there is good in this world.

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.

Melvin

is one of the best people I know! He is my co-worker, friend, confidant, gambling buddy, drinking buddy and an all around nice man. Many years ago, myself and several other co-workers traveled to Palau to stay and visit with his beautiful and friendly family. No matter what type of person you are, his whole family would welcome you into their family! Mel is a great tour guide and historian and his stories captivate you and also has you splitting your sides from laughing too much. We traveled by boat on a two hour sun beating ride across crystal aqua blue waters to Peleliu, his grandmother Wenty's island. All I can say about her and the island...beautiful and majestic! As I think about all these wonderful thoughts of my good friend Melvin, who is in a hospital ICU, it's like an old friend coming to visit. I'm not a stranger to ICU's. My mother was there once while in her 50's. My father at some point in his life but I was too young to visit. It is here that my friend, Melvin is currently. A pneumonia infection had reached into his lungs compiled on top of an alcohol addiction to Vodka has caused him to be here. If is weren't for good friends he may not be here today. This is one battle he is fighting for his young 44 year old life. He has been in ICU for two weeks now overcoming hurdles one by one. Along with the demons of alcoholism and the malignant spirit that it brings along. Luckily for Mel, his sisters are here and many of his friends. While he is on the road to a slow recovery, the real journey will begin when he returns home, behind closed doors and out of reach from any family, friends or doctors. Pray for Melvin, pray for recovery, pray for his spirit in the hopes to realize that he does make a difference in this world.

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.

Finality

of it all. I am here in Las Vegas having attended a funeral of a co-worker that I worked with many years ago during my early years. He passed away from a heart attack and left a wife and adult children. Many nice things were said about him and every one of them true. The collage made by his family showed his life and loves. His true age did not show being only 71 years young. As I watched him being lowered into the cement ground vault brought me back to my own father's burial almost nine years ago in the same place of interment, the Veteran's Cemetery located in Boulder City. It was eerie and sad. My own sadness and loss of a parent is hard. It is still nine years later and I foster that void in a part of my heart, a missing link.
The final closing of the cement lid and the empty sound that it makes in the breeze of the wind. The harshness of this dessert region combined with the living and the dead is a reality check of how fragile my life is. How life is given and how life is taken, in the blink of an eye, the sighing of a last breath and the light that leads you from now to forever. Surely, If I were to be taken now, I would have so much unfinished business that I don't want to leave my family members without resolving much of it. I would so miss life, the breaths, the joy and my friends and family. What will they think when I can't say goodbye? If I love them with all of my heart and show them, then there is no need to say goodbye

Annual Garbage Cleanup

which I receive once a year to overhaul my home and rid myself and family of unwanted items that cannot be taken by Goodwill. This year we had eleven bags of garbage and one lone bureau drawer which was infested with rat poop. Yes, we have a rat problem which my brother has layed out some rat poison to eradicate the little buggers. I don't care about the local animal rights activist and preserving our rat society and calling me a rat killer or creatures of the almighty, but when they're in your home causing a unholy mess and you're sick of seeing rat poop everywhere, then come and talk to me. The infestation has taken place in my daughters lower apartment and they seem to be everywhere. At least five of the bags contained clothes and blankets stained by the green poop, remnants of the poison leaving a trail everywhere they go. The bureau drawer was a Goodwill buy, infested and stained, with the green poop and had to go. The Daly City once a year that I'm allowed up to twelve bags no more than 60 pounds each and two large items. I was well within my limits. My families cleaning venture took us most of the weekend and up until 10:00pm. Exhausted and hungry, we decided to call it a day. With much more room and treasure finds for my EBay selling binge, there was room to breathe. In another week or two, we will go back and investigate to see if there are signs of rat poop or infestations. Rheumatoid arthritis or not, my life still has to go on because no one else will get it done.