The wind chimes ring playfully in the cool breeze, in the distance we see the snow capped Mauna Kea, with the telescopes and observatories. On Saturday, Margie and I saw a whale... we were sitting together during Jim's memorial, exchanging comfort and memories, when the whale spouted and breached. I smell flowers and hear chickens and roosters, and Maria is learning how to hula. There is so much to enjoy and savor and celebrate and then it is all diminshed by the realization that someone is missing. He loved it here most of all of us, and he would have loved to see his grandchildren flying the kite, fixing the tractor, collecting guavas, practicing the hula in a shell lei and grass skirt. It's hard not to call his name: Corm, come here. You have to see this. It's hard not being able to ask him the name of that tree or whether we should use 4 wheel drive to get down to Waipio Valley. It's his truck. He should be here.
The last time we were here he took us to Spencer Park State Beach. It was really windy. Really windy. We could hardly swim, let alone keep our towels and hats from blowing to Fiji. We took a hike down an old Hawaiian trail, exploring with Poppa-Corn Man, and he regaled us with Island history, legend and folklore. Suddenly the path opened onto a white sand beach, with water the color of a clear blue sky. We were sheltered from the wind and the water was sheltered from the heavy surf, so the boys and I were able to swim and float and immerse ourselves... Maybe longing for a swim could be seen as somewhat irreverent, but it isn't, not here. A swim, hula lessons, stretching out on the lawn and whistling on blades of grass... we could not do better to honor and remember this man that we love and miss.
Update: Far from our usual tools and resources, Geoff still manages to find a way for me to post some images.
Update II: These are ginormous! LOL
Update III(02/23/08): The photos are fixed.