Growing Up

Getting older. I see the (inevitable) passing of time in the mirror, my kids’ faces, and my parents. I push out the pangs of fear that bubble up each time I get the call about a new ailment in my mom. My dad. I see my selfishness in wanting more time.

This week I came to Hanalei, my dad’s birthplace, and site of so many childhood memories. With tears and respect for my cousins, we bid farewell to Auntie Carol. It was a fitting goodbye, in the place she was born.

We rushed around before our flight to do our regular visits: A visit to my dad’s 101 year old friend Ishikawa, seemed to be the last one I would make. With sadness I recalled memories; running through his taro farm and picking fruit from the tractor scoop, as he lifted us to the best fruit.

We searched for my great grandma’s headstone in a cemetery that was demolished by a landslide last April. The landscape, changed forever from what I have known it to always be.

I’ve watched Hanalei change over the years but this visit was bittersweet. As we drove out of the valley towards Lihue, past the mountains my dad made us remember the names of, the liquor store my grandma opened so long ago, and the house my dad grew up in, I felt the gravity of my new memories. Mostly, it was a sadness that rolled over me, knowing the place my kids see has a different meaning and existence. I wondered how my dad must feel each visit. I felt humbled, grateful and sad.