We got in on Thursday after a 6 hour flight that was informative regarding the various euphemisms the flight crew employed to describe frequent turbulence… "a few bumps"; " 'chop' over the Pacific; "a little shake". Hmmmm….. I must have had just the right amount of meds on board because my flight anxiety stayed fairly under control with a little deep breathing; a little visualizing a peaceful scene. God, I hate flying.
The problem up there was the massive low pressure front still creating 120 MPH winds pushing at our little 737. That system had created huge swells of Pacific Ocean rushing onto the Islands' north shores creating 40-50 foot waves the day before we flew in. Yowza! That's a lot of water hitting the beach! We saw photos, saw signs at the airport when we landed warning tourists heading north of flooding and closed roads. We stay on the east side, on a protected bay, that has been calm as a lake. Just like I like it.
We've been coming here for 15 years. Flying in just before landing felt like coming home, as we cruised alongside the island landscape that has become so familiar to us. I love familiarity and a sense of belonging. Yet….this time I'm feeling antsy. I'm a little impatient. I realize I'm feeling like I'd like to see and experience something new. Hub is a little startled by this admission. He is usually the one pushing me to move out of my comfort zone and here I am fussing about wanting to branch out in my "adventuring". (This might mean a Marriott on a different island…I haven't completely lost my mind!)
The other thing that seems to be nudging at my consciousness is (as is frequently true), thoughts of my mother. There was a time when she was about my age I suppose, when she used to say she had always wanted to visit Hawaii. She said it wistfully, as if this was a dream far beyond her ability to realize, and I suppose for her it must have felt that way. A northern Illinois farm girl of the Depression years, living a subsistence existence, had thought she had realized the pinnacle of success for having been able to marry, raise a family, build a new home in the suburbs, and come to own her own small beautician business. Travel that didn't happen in the car on a highway was not in the cards -- or at least in her mind's ability to fathom for herself.
Later, when we started coming here, I suggested she might want to come along. But she was older then, and not interested in travel anymore, and she turned me down. She said she just didn't have the same desire to go anymore; just wasn't interested. I think now I should have ignored her and made her come; should have pushed her a bit. I wish I had been able to give her the gift of a morning like this…the warm air hugging my skin, the gentle breeze like a loving caress, the soft glow of sunrise over the Pacific promising a day where the visual landscape is a riot of tropical color, where birdcall delights the ear.
I don't know if there is a heaven or anything like it. The more I think about mortality the more I want to believe there is something pleasant "out there"…I hope for my mom she is in a warm sunny place that is far more beautiful than any Hawaiian Island.
I hope for me, that whatever I find after this mortal life has ended, I can get to that new adventure with a minimum of "chop".
At least, that's the view from here… ©
FROM AN EMAIL: Thanks for your post. As usual, it hit home.
ReplyDeleteFlying in at Lihue, watching the shore go by.... Thanks for the mini trip back!
FROM AN EMAIL: I read the part about your mother and Hawaii again. My sister started going to Hawaii sooner than I did, and managed to get Mama over there at least once. So glad! Mama was very prim, but did don a swimming suit and sit in the shade and tanned beautifully. I did not get her skin, and sit in the shade to avoid the sunburn.
ReplyDeleteMy sister also took my mom to Reno. Prim, proper, mom loved to gamble! Who would have known?
I love your blogs!