People always ask me "Do you miss Hawaii," and I always answer the same way, "Yes. Every day."
Today a woman came through my check stand with a maika'i card on her keyring. I was torn between bursting into tears and jumping over the register to hug her and kiss her once on each cheek. Instead I stumbled through a story about how the check stand lady at Foodland gave me her Polynesian turtle shell bracelet after I commented on its beauty. Just like that. Gave it to me off her own wrist. I'm pretty sure the lady was ready to just hurry up and pay for her groceries after that awkward moment.
Little things like this happen to me ALL the time. At least once a week. Sometimes once a day. Little bits of Hawaii pop up and call to me and then I end up trying my hardest not to cry. Just last week we were in a store at the mall that had a TV on playing a song by Jason Mraz and the video had scenes from I believe Kaui and I just stood and froze and watched it and let my heart hurt and my two year old run around in the store window display until it was over.
I have a picture of Waimea by my favorite artist Bill Braden that I bought at the Haleiwa Arts Festival hanging in Choob's bathroom. Sometimes when I go in there to pee I close my eyes so I won't see it and get sad.
The worst thing is that I am starting to forget. Dan and I will be talking about something that we did in Hawaii and it is fuzzy when I try to recall it. It's been too long. Two years too long. I'm forgetting.
Little things like this happen to me ALL the time. At least once a week. Sometimes once a day. Little bits of Hawaii pop up and call to me and then I end up trying my hardest not to cry. Just last week we were in a store at the mall that had a TV on playing a song by Jason Mraz and the video had scenes from I believe Kaui and I just stood and froze and watched it and let my heart hurt and my two year old run around in the store window display until it was over.
I have a picture of Waimea by my favorite artist Bill Braden that I bought at the Haleiwa Arts Festival hanging in Choob's bathroom. Sometimes when I go in there to pee I close my eyes so I won't see it and get sad.
The worst thing is that I am starting to forget. Dan and I will be talking about something that we did in Hawaii and it is fuzzy when I try to recall it. It's been too long. Two years too long. I'm forgetting.
I'm forgetting what it's like:
to walk down the beach with Dan
to surf/snorkel north shore
to jump off really high rocks and land in really shallow water
to know all the lyrics to Hawaiian radio songs like "I like fish and poi, I'm a big boy....."
to go up/down the Kehoe's driveway in the rain
to lose power because some has hit a telephone pole again
to stare out at the sea from the top of the pupukea heiau
I'm forgetting the taste of:
ted's breakfast
a snorkel in my mouth
poki cakes from Angels
taco bell in Kaneohe
a matsumotos flavored with li hing moi and ice cream on the bottom
I'm forgetting the sight of:
those trees on the way to costco that Dan calls "canopy makers"
chinamen's
The Nimitz Hwy sign
Sunsets
shark box
"fat carty" the 500 pound shirtless golf cart driving guy on the way to kaneohe
Palms dancing in the wind
Everything North Shore
stray Chickens and cats
Gray whales from the Kehoe's deck
Rainbow School
Waimea Falls and Bay
I'm forgetting the sound of:
The drums at the PCC
sudden rainstorms
Dr. Shimizu and the lawn chairs in her outdoor waiting room
big wave season
my baby's squeaky stroller as we walked the bike path
I'm forgetting the smell of:
dozens of sunday dinners at TVA from dozens of different countries
Pineapple fields
Surf out at V-land
Maui Babe tanning lotion
Mold
Early morning waimea, when not a soul is on the sandI'm forgetting the feel of:
Sea Turtles
humidity
a wet bathing suit worn all day
sand-on my skin, in my hair, in the car, in my food, in my sheets
laying out at turtle bay
driving with the windows down
humility