Thanksgiving and trip home

All good things must come to an end. And there is no better way to wrap up a vacation than to have a Thanksgiving feast with loved ones. One of my favorite things is the buzz in the kitchen before the meal. Thanks Mom, for all the prep work and beautiful table setting. Everyone made such great food, though the company was even better (barely).

We flew home sitting this way. We told the kids to check their chutes to make sure they were ready for the jump once we had crossed the ocean. They didn't appreciate the joke.

We love you family. Thanks for the love and fun.

A few more Hawai'i memories

Seth loved being outside and was quite the adventurer.
Mmmmmmm. Leonard's hot malasadas (Portugese hole-less donut rolled in cinnamon and sugar)-doesn't get much better than that. I know family-I'll give a shout out to Dee-Lite's malasadas as well.
There was lots to explore and the girls found some of our old paths around the property.
The kids had to run down to give Shawn good morning hugs. Sometimes very early.

Hawai'i or Bust!

The morning after Shawn returned home, we were off to Travis Air Force Base to catch a flight home to Hawai'i. The military allows military families to travel on their daily cargo and refeuling missions on a variety of different aircraft. They basically load us into whatever space was not filled for their specific mission. This means that we may fly a puddle jumper with parachute seats or a larger aircraft with commercial seats. The crews have all been fun to fly with and willing to answer any questions about the plane we are on. On the way there, we flew a refeuling mission which adds a little flight time but is no big deal. This plane had reclining mats with joysticks below where the crew lays to refeul planes. Pretty cool stuff.

I remember flying home during the college years and how much I loved the last little stretch that takes us over the Honolulu city lights. It meant I was home. Each time I step off the plane, I can count on the same three things happening. First, the wet air turns my skin into a sponge. Second, the smell of any given flower in the breeze takes away the blur of a long flight. And lastly, I find myself asking why I am living someplace else. The kids immediately start the excited talk of swimming, sand play, cousin time, and how they can't wait to see Grandpa and Grandma. No matter how many times I have come back, I can't help but feel sad that the time will fly too quickly and I will find myself leaving again.

Our arrival was celebrated with Khal-bi ribs (Shawn's favorite) by the pool. Thanks, Dad! Each November we celebrate Birthday Week. Shawn and the girls all have birthdays within a week of eachother and so nothing could be better than blowing out candles on a Chantilly cake. My kids race to put on their kama'aina uniforms (by which I mean swim suits)and don't really take them off until we get back on the plane. Bliss.

Leave (part 1)

There is no point in trying to describe the leaps and cartwheels our hearts did the day Shawn arrived. All of the grand plans and sweet daydreams that have filled our time apart easily pale in comparison to our real moment of reunion. The day was filled with business and many pep talks with myself about not letting out what Oprah calls the "ugly cry". Not that the emotion would be unwarranted, but knowing Shawn had to leave us again, I needed the kids to know that I wasn't crumbling. As I looked at the faces of loved ones who came to greet Shawn, I could feel nothing but gratitude.

Later, as I prepared the house for our departure the next morning, the kids were at my feet as usual. The urgent "Mommy!" this's and that's filled the air around me like any other night. Shawn lovingly walked into the kitchen and gathered the kids to take them away and let me finish my task in peace. He shot me a wink and like any other capable and stable woman, I sobbed. Everyone who faces the duties and trials of daily life knows the importance of setting aside the awareness of its hardship. But once you are reminded of the burden that is lifted by a simple helping hand, that suppressed emotion can quickly slap you in the face. This was a good slap.

Hee hee hee!

A Sweet Farewell

Yesterday I was able to go to a funeral for my Mom's Uncle Roy. This man has had a sweet spot in my heart for many years. Among other things, Roy and Eunice were kind enough to have me in their home as I would travel home during college and hosted our wedding luncheon at their house.

As I watched the rest of the family shuffle in to be seated in the chapel, I couldn't help but look at the many sweet great-grandchildren who are a part of this man's legacy. I felt touched as the rows kept filling with his closest family members and thought of my family members who weren't able to be there.

I knew Uncle Roy to be a smart and kind man. He seemed to take such an interest in everyone he talked to and had something unique to say. I was touched by the tributes given him as a steady man who always knew how to endure. His son called him a "Shiblon" saying that his father was someone who was not flashy but very steadfast and walked uprightly before God. He spoke of his father never being a discriminator of persons and always finding ways to help poeple have what they needed in creative ways. He was a man who didn't think to complain and would start the day saying, "It's a great day in Chicago!" (They lived there 25 years for work). He wore the same old red sweater every year at Christmas. He was engaged to Eunice two years while he was away in the Army Air Corps and in Brazil working. His daughter found his love letters to her from this period of time and said that each started endearingly with "My Dearest Brown Eyes". He was asked if during his years in the Army he was able to hold true to his values. He said that he contemplated for three months the fact that he was the only "Mormon" around and that he could have done whatever he wanted. He asked himself what he really wanted and he decided he wanted the happiness the Gospel brings.


I couldn't help but think of my family. We are all so different but we all know we are loved. As I sat there I felt grateful to a long line of people who valued the Gospel and wanted to share it. A group of people who know how to roll up their sleeves and get to work. I thought of family tradition and struggle. I thought of celebration and new generations we have yet to meet. I felt happy for Roy, his choices and the obvious abundance of love he shared with his family. I left with a renewed resolve to express my love as often and openly as possible.

Trunk-or-Treat

Altogether a successful Halloween and finished before the rain hit.