2011
The day of Dad's celebration of life was one of the most beautiful days I had ever experienced thanks to the particularly clear skies and calm waters, all well as witnessing the incredible ability of humans to remember those we lost even while still mending our broken hearts. It took place at the beach, one of his favorites, and while we didn't have a large extended family to attend, he had a lot of friends that showed up to celebrate him. Many of them I hadn't met before, but they spoke as if they knew me. As if they had known all of us our entire lives—a result of the culture of Hawai'i, but also the way my father shared his love for his family with everyone he ever met.
When I first awoke in the morning, I had taken a deep breath and felt every inch of my body wake at the same time, air filling my lungs and every wretched crevice of my body. For probably the first time in my entire life, I got myself ready without any music, determined to let every movement, every thought, and every emotion ripple over me without disturbance. My last few weeks were spent trying to feel as little as possible. And, though as difficult as it was to get used to, I didn't want this day to be something I forgot. I didn't want it to be something I numbed out of existence. My dad deserved better than that. He deserved so much better than a lot of what he was given.
My sisters and I did most of the work around the house before heading over to the celebration. We didn't completely cut our mom off from doing anything, as we knew it would only make her feel helpless, even if that was the furthest from the truth, but most of the heavy lifting was completed by Kanani and me. By the time we walked our plates of breakfast over into the living room where she was braiding Leimomi's hair, the sun had finally crested over the horizon in full bloom. For someone who recognized her reflection more at night when the moon was out, I found it calming.
The year was slipping away quicker than I could have wished for it to finally end, but if there was ever a day I could cling to after he was gone, it was today. Even though he wasn't there, his spirit was felt by everyone who came to wish him farewell.
I cried a lot, but it was usually followed by a smile that couldn't contain itself. Reminiscing on memories were cathartic; hearing of the magic my father bestowed upon the rest of our island was pure bliss. The love felt never-ending in the best way possible. While emotionally, I stood on the precipice of breaking into pieces, their words somehow stitched me back up. I couldn't say for sure how long this temporary fix would last—maybe I would wake up tomorrow morning and find myself completely ruined once again; that wasn't something I could say for sure that I would ever truly know—but today was enough. Today was everything it needed to be. And when I spent so much of my life feeling like I would never be enough, smiling as I said goodbye to my father as he was, but not as he would eventually become to me, was enough.
Once the speeches ended, the music, food, and drinks began flowing freely. People danced like nobody was watching, and attendees sang their hearts out, proving just how talented Hawaiians had always been and always would be. With our bellies full and our hearts even fuller, we found a way out of the darkness and under a rainbow instead.
He would have loved it.
...
I kicked up sand with my feet and watched it slip under the tide as it pulled right up under me. Some people wanted to plant their roots and leave a legacy long enough to see wisteria grow over their branches. I wanted to breathe and become one with the air, land, and sea. Ignoring the morbid reminder of mortality, I decided then that I wanted to be cremated as my father had been, so I could also find myself scattered amongst the waves alongside our dear Hawai'i.
By the time it swept away, Kanani and Leimomi had already begun lowering themselves beside me, and Mom soon joined after. The four of us had taken cover from the brief rain shower, which would have otherwise dampened our perfect day, except that it brought us that rainbow we so desperately need, so it was hard to complain.
Silence ricocheted between us as steadily as the bearing of our hearts. It was comfortable. We were all together and that was all that mattered. Not every moment in life required the right words to describe it because honestly, some moments couldn't be explained in such austere terms. Even the most complex prose could never truly encapsulate the totality of this moment between us, or any of the enchanted triumphs and godawful calamities stretched between each bar of our lives, so trying wouldn't make sense. As with all good things in life, letting it play out as it did was best.
Kanani rested her head on Mom's shoulder, allowing the latter to wrap an arm around hers. Leimomi's fingers snaked their way through mine, holding tight and never letting go. As each lap of the waves gently pelted our feet, we soaked all of it in. This moment, every moment that had passed, and all future moments that would come to fruition.
A song started playing in the distance, one that resonated with every person of the island, born and bred from the fabric of Hawai'i and all she endured, through all she persevered. Some days it was sad, others it was hopeful. Today, it was equal parts both. But that was the true beauty of it. This song was everything it needed to be when we needed it.
Leimomi started singing along. Beautiful didn't even begin to describe it.
Aloha 'oe, aloha 'oe
E ke onaona noho i ka lipo
One fond embrace
A ho'i a'e au
Until we meet again
THE END
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North Star
ChickLitIn the tranquil waters of Hawai'i, Hokulani and Nikau wonder if it's possible for a song to go on forever. ***** For as long as Hokulani can remember, she's...
