ku'u home o waimea

As we bounce and jostle along the rugged and rocky dirt road in Jonah's 4-wheel drive truck, heading for a small cove well off the main road to Hapuna Beach, I am suddenly reminded of him as a 5-year old, driving bumper cars at the 50th State Fair, the steering wheel careening wildly as he focused with great intensity on the job at hand. He is in his element here, driving skillfully across the dusty bumpy terrain. Yet it was just a few months ago that he proudly purchased his re-built country truck and Nohea taught him to drive standard.

We are in Waimea for a working vacation and reunion -- With Kalei home from college, she, Mark and I flew to the Big Island to do some work on the property and spend time with Jonah, friend David and girlfriend Nohea. We worked outside most of this morning, chopping and hauling tree trunks and branches, almost filling the rented dumpster. After a food store run, and assemblage of the new grill, we headed towards Kawaihae and the South Kohala coast.

The kids brought us to a favorite spot for an afternoon of snorkeling, swimming, opihi picking, Bar-B-Q, and pulling keawe thorns out of our slippas. We had the place all to ourselves, unless you count the ant-sized folks visible in the distance at the Hapuna Prince Resort beach as I squatted to use the lua. The lovely cove, with its beach of many small water-rounded stones and large lava rocks a short swim from shore, hid a breathtaking underwater world plentiful with reef fish, black vanna, red starfish and lush bright green coral canyons and meadows like none I've ever seen. I was excited and deeply happy to be flying above and amongst it all. The smooth sun baked black and white stones on shore were a surprisingly comfortable place to warm up and nap after a swim in the late afternoon water.

Later that night, Jonah, Nohea and David used food prep and bar tending skills honed in Hawaii's service economy to treat us to "Mexican Margarita Night", with the fine meal followed by rousing rounds of Hana Fuda. No one can crow like Grandpa, but Mark attempted to evoke his spirit with a rooster's cock-a-doodle-doooo whenever Grandpa's favorite card, the chicken, appeared. We even slid into comfortable collective reminiscence about Milo; it's been 6 months since Jonah's beloved dog was hit by a car on Kawaihae Road, and up to now, 'twas a taboo topic around him.

It seems a long 10 months indeed since Jonah and David moved to the Big Island, camping out in the newly completed shell of our brave little round redwood and cedar house, using their sweat equity to turn it into a home. And now, both boys are ready to move on. Jonah is gearing up for the next phase of his life, a path that may take him far from here once again. He is itching to travel, go back to school, or... he's not sure what yet, but his psyche is pulling up stakes, his relationship with the house and land now as non-committal and rocky as that road near Hapuna beach. The seismic ripples of this shift can be felt by all of us, with everyone trying to come to grips with the fact that a corner has been turned, that an intense period in each and all of our lives is coming to a close. Still, there are surprising signs of new life: Kalei worked hard every morning clearing the land, and now can envision herself returning here to live, plant, build and grow in the years to come.

I am filled with grief and gratitude -- deep sadness for the time that is coming to a close in Waimea; grateful for the fragile good fortune that got us this far together in our grand adventure and investment; grateful that, despite and because of the experience, we can still spend satisfying time together. Differences in expectations, talents and contributions that were once complementary now grate and create conflict, yet still in the midst of this complexity, we have been able to enjoy each other and connect to the love that binds us. Flying somewhere along the continuum between functional and dys-, we are an imperfect family of good people trying to honor our relationships above property and money; trying, scary as it is, to allow each other to move on and away; to accept each person's contribution, as well as what cannot be freely given.

Try as I may to accept these changes, I still cling to the rocks like the Big Island opihi that Jonah loves to hunt and gather. As attached as these children are to our family and yes, this land, they are determined to pry themselves free and find the next home away from home. At these times of change on top of change, it seems as though everything I try to grab hold of slips through my fingers like limu floating in the sea. As Nana Veary said so many years ago, back when I was too young to know why her words are such a challenge: "Change we must". Perhaps one of these days I will learn how to enjoy that slippery feeling! For now, what I can do is treasure the many good moments we are given, let them go, and watch what washes ashore with the next tide.

what we saw this morning

This morning at Shark's Cove, North Shore we saw 3 eagle rays (bull rays) flying in formation, and two green sea turtles munching away on the coral ledge where the waves washed in. what a joy to fly alongside them in the calm water! we had no camera, so I just found these to give a sense of what we saw :)