"Do the Hokey Pokey and Turn Yourself Around!" (Crossing Oahu by Crook or by Crutch!)

This past week marks 31 years of a wonderful connection. Tuesday Val and I knelt at an altar in Ogden, Utah surrounded by smiling faces and mirrors reflecting visions of generations before and generations yet to come and remembered promises that we made at that time and continue to renew.  Promises to (and from) God and one another.  

On that bright morning in Seattle, following encouragement of practical parents, we invited no one.  My parents were there.  A 13-year-old sister, who tended our little ones, a kindergarten-age and toddler daughter, all met us afterwards in lavender dresses.   (Interestingly, my neighboring congregation from the Tri-Cities were attending that day and many came!)

 

Months prior to this occasion, Val and I had driven to Central Wyoming to spend a few days with my father's parents, Pearl and Ivin Gee, who charmed Val with their whole grain cereal with dried dates and stories of faraway journeys to serve. One of those journeys included service in "the isles of the sea," with their station being a thatched roof chapel at the Polynesian Cultural Center in Laie, Hawaii.

Before our mission to California, Val had invited us to travel there. Think of the response: “Now? The expense! The time away!  Surely another season would offer better conditions!”  Seven years following, Val's sister called us with a kind offer to share some points from her vacation rental with us. "Why not now?" It was June. We plunged.  With Val's stroke recovery and our mothers not getting younger, I closed my eyes and secured the airline seats and tickets for a luau. We called friends who love this island and marched forward…  (Until some of us started marching with crutches. And a walker.  And then struggled to watch as a beloved mother was hospitalized a few days prior to our planned departure.)

An older brother called from China: "You need to still go." (But how? The day prior to takeoff, we were searching to find a rehabilitation facility, working to collect and do all the things required to ease mom's transition to receive adequate care.)  Brothers, friends, and neighbors stepped forward, meeting us when and where we could help no further. We were reminded of angels unaware -- stories of ancestors pushing handcarts over snowy mountainous Wyoming trails, hungry and barefoot struggling with wind, storm, and desperate fatigue, when they told of times that they felt the handcart pushing them! (See footnote 9)

Hawaii happened, thanks to helpers on the right hand and the left. (And a Boeing 767 jet, which a sweet husband spent much of his career working on, but had never before ridden!)

 Wandering between waterfalls, flora, fauna, 

beaches,

 waves, 

mountains, 

glorious sunsets, 

and a few bites of Hawaii,

I was inspired by Grandma Pearl’s letters of 40 years ago that helped us to view the island through eyes of an Idaho-raised, central Wyoming second grade teacher and meteorologist, the blessing of nations from isles of the sea in harmony, celebrating in a “breath of life” (or “Ha!” show) depiction in dance celebrating the birth of a beloved child into a family, watching his growth and journey among nation islands, concluding with spectacular fire dancing. 

While Grandpa’s brothers taught at BYU Hawaii, Grandpa and Grandma enjoyed, as did we, a smattering of peoples from every land.  We spoke with individuals from New York City to Nova Scotia, Ukraine, Australia and Japan.

  

Val’s joy our final day came in finding a librarian at a Honolulu Library teach us ways (through ChrononiclingAmerica.loc.gov) to find newspaper information for a deceased uncle who died in Hawaii in 1885 after serving in the Civil War.  Try it!  You might be surprised what you can find!  

A January article quoting an art magazine suggested that some things are better done at a slower pace,

 which happens with wheel chairs, walkers, crutches and crawling carefully on rocks and sand.  Our hearts have been turned. And we are learning to turn ourselves around, as we navigate change and watch our wonderful fall leaves exemplify brilliance in the bearing news of coming goodness.  

Thank you, each, for beautiful choices in doing just that! 

Much love! Laurene and Val

A postscript came today with a call from my mother's brother letting us hear that Aunt Arlene was visited by a wonderful close son, coming to pick her up for a regular temple appointment and learned that she is keeping another appointment, with others beyond the veil.  Our condolences and interest and love are extended to cousins and other family.  

I stayed with this beloved sister to Mom between moves when I had my first daughter.  Arlene loved us each like her own.  My wish and hope is to carry the spunk and determination of this delightful woman throughout my days -- to have courage to camp at age 88, dance and diligently don scriptures at the break of dawn until it is my time to greet the Author!

We love Aunt Arlene.  We appreciate the concentric connecting circles of cousins from her limb of her fruitful branch.  We pray that the sparkle of such a smile can continue to brighten all those that choose to walk in the wake of her love.  And we trust in words of comfort: "Blessed are they that mourn!"

Sincerely, Your Cousin Laurene