"Mental Ward"

     That statement resonates in the back of my mind and brings me back to when I was a young girl of 10 years old.  My family was vacationing in Oahu, Hawaii visiting with my mother and fathers huge extended family.  My mother has 5 brothers, all but one brother,  is deceased.  My father has 19 brothers and sisters,  all but two remain living.  One beautiful bright warm Saturday morning in Laie,  we were going to visit with Aunty Pua at the Hospital.  I remembered hearing in hushed whispers, "Mento Ward" in Hawaiian pidgen language amongst my aunts and uncles.  "You going Mento Wahd go see Aunty?" They knew who she was without saying her name outright.
     The drive was not long,  sitting in the back seat with my brother Doug, sister Laurie and a few cousins along with my mom and dad in the front seat.  I can still relive that day as if it were yesterday.  We were so glad to finally be out of the car as we ran around the parking lot of the Hospital.  Our sound of laughter broke the silence of the trade-winds as the sun beat down on us.  Mom and dad "shushed" us as we walked towards what looked like a Grand Mansion with beautiful white columns and the ocean blue as it's background.  How can this be a Hospital?  I thought it to be of someones home, it was my Aunty Pua's home.  After weaving our way through a myriad of doors,  I remembered coming out of a door onto an open Lanai (patio) looking out towards the ocean and great massive trees spreading branch to branch as if shaking hands and breathing the warm scent of gardenia and plumerias into my body.  That moment of serenity was broken with shrieking and screaming and then laughter but not of children,  they were people like my mom and dad's age.  I turned to see old people, young people,  people rocking back and forth facing a wall or a window,  people chattering on and laughing at the toy rocking horse.  Nurses in white uniforms, cleaning and speaking with their energetic charges.  Frightened,  I quickly searched for my mom and dad who were not too far and was sitting and talking with an elderly woman.  I remembered her face and eyes hanging so low and sad but she was happy to see my parents and us children.  I saw my dad petting her hand and she had her head on my dads shoulder.  This was the Aunty Pua we came to visit.  Fearful,  I stayed close to mom and dad.  I could hear my mom speaking with Aunty Pua in Hawaiian, crying and heartbroken.
     Today these "Mental Wards" have politically correct names now.  Psychiatric is the word most commonly used.  Hospital and facilities to also mark the place or residence of a "Patient" and not Koo-Koo, idiot or Crazy man/woman.  My daughter Pua, has been a resident on the 3rd floor of the Psychiatric Unit at the San Mateo General Hospital for several weeks now.  Her pregnancy was terminated on Thursday Jan 17th in the afternoon.  When I received her conservatorship paperwork from the County of San Mateo to let me know of their procedure known as "Therapeutic Abortion",  my memories overwhelmed me with thoughts on how we used to view the mentally ill and how we used to shut them away, "out of sight, out of mind".  I'm very glad for our progress and cures and how far we have become as an American Nation.  We have moved forward from this stigma that many countries still discriminate against it, ridicule,  lock people away and even put to death.  God Bless America! 

Happy Birthday

to me. 46 years young, Rheumatoid arthritis, 2 adult daughters, one soon to be 15 year old son and spending this special day on a mini vacation with my good friend Darrell in Hawaii. Barely making it on the American Airline nonstop to Honolulu, we were given excellent seats in Coach. Spring Break is just around the corner and we are taking a big chance on standing by for seats to the island paradise and it is so worth it. Our hotel is just across the street from the famous Waikiki Beach which the bell boy stated when we asked, "where is the pool?" He pointed to the beach and said, "We have the biggest pool in the world!" We did alot of walking on this trip which was beneficial for me. Eventually, a beautiful convertible Sebring won out and we rented that for two days and toured the Makaha side of the island stopping at desolate beaches, cave exploring and in search of my craving for "Hawaiian poke". I was Darrell's tour guide and the price was right. I took him to all of the places that I used to visit with cousin's and enjoyed our tourist outing. We visited the flea market at Aloha stadium and were admitted inside to watch children playing soccer. There was a festival on the beach of Waikiki complete with a giant screen to watch documentaries on Hawaiian life, we strolled the boardwalk and sat out on the pier to hear the gentle ocean waves and feel the tropical breeze while watching the flickering city lights in the background. We followed the beating drums to the Waikiki Shell and were let in free of charge to view a Tahitian competition and applauded the winners. Our walking took us along the path of the Ala Wai Canal and the liquid quietness of it's water.
During the day, we would visit the Royal Hawaiian Hotel and enjoy it's signature drink, The Royal Hawaiian Mai tai enticing us to drink from the womb of a fresh pineapple. Deliciously intoxicating. People watching the Waikiki beach goers. Taking view of a parade on our day of departure. With in this short amount of time, we accomplished quite a lot. Darrell and I are wonderful travelling partners and go with the flow of our journey. What ever falls into our laps, literally, we take it and enjoy it to the fullest. Alas, our time to go home was the saddest having to leave for rainy California. We know that Hawaii will be there waiting for us to enjoy and it is just a plane ride away.

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.