Moving to Hawaii

March 6, 2005

It is hard to believe that I am finally going. I may not believe it fully until I actually board the plane and take off for Oahu. I am nervous, excited, happy, sad, and assorted variations of all of these feelings. Things have fallen into place so quickly that I have not had time to properly process all this. I am leaving the place of my birth, leaving a beautiful home, my family, the love of my life, and a secure job, for the warmth of the Hawaiian sun and a chance to follow my muse. I am thankful that everyone is encouraging me to do this and a little disappointed that no one is begging me not to leave. I see the plum and cherry trees blooming and Mount Rainier looming on the horizon and I know that these familiar sight will now be a place I visit, but will not call home. I am wondering what homing instinct was planted in my soul when I lived in Maui. What calls me back? Is it the sun, the surf, the Southern Cross in the night sky? Or is the legendary music that plays across the islands like a giant harp? I miss the sound of Pidgin English, miss palm trees and red cotton soil. I miss flowers that can be strung into leis and bougainvillea arbors. I miss the West Maui Mountains more than I miss the tall, snowcapped mountain that mothered me from birth.

March 8, 2005

It is a beautiful Tuesday morning. The sun is just lighting up Commencement Bay, and the giant, empty freighter looks peaceful, content to wait for a load to some other part of the world. I kept watching on Saturday for my container to leave port, bound for Oahu. It must have snuck by while I was sleeping. I had a dream last night that it was lost at sea. If I believed in omens, I would be worried. If I believed in omens I would be even more worried that the jeweled egg our wedding rings are in has fallen apart, crushed by the good intentions of my husband. He picked it up, as carefully as his strong fingers would allow, to check the loose hinge. When it crumbled in his hands he roared like a wounded lion. He was still grieving for his much loved home. It was too much to lose this icon of his love. I am so relieved that his temporary home while he waits to move with me has such an impressive view. I am joining him in Fremont for lunch today. It is a testimony to his unselfish nature that he wants to take me to sushi, not his favorite, but mine.

There is so much to do this week. So many people that I want to see and hug goodbye. I spent the evening with Patty and Dave last night. Their grief for Rocky seems to have become more manageable, still raw, but not such a gapping wound. I wonder if that process of acceptance brings a fresh brand of grief. It was hard to say goodbye. I tried to convince Dave that a trip to Oahu to see me should not be discounted. I don't think he was buying it.

March 10, 2005

I took my baby girl out for her 27th birthday lunch today. She wanted Indian food, so we went to Gateway to India, the best Indian restaurant in the Northwest, as far as Michael and I are concerned. We had a special time, talking, eating, and just a little bit of crying when I thanked God for the special gift of my daughter. We went shopping for jeans after lunch and we bought matching, stripped jeans, me size 10 and she size 12. We have were not always so close in size or spirit. I'm so proud of the woman she has become.

This evening Michael and I went out to the Parkway for beer and cider with Chris, my car pool buddy, and his sister, Sara, and her husband, Tang. I am going to miss Chris, who is going to Georgia, the country, with the Peace Corp. 

March 12, 2005

It is 4:43 am, the day before I embark on my life journey. I am not ashamed to say that I am scared about this move. I liken this point in my life to swinging from one trapeze to another. There has to be a point where you let go of one and grab the next. This is it, and it is hard to sleep through that kind of transition.

I spent the day yesterday at my mother's, fixing her breakfast and coaxing her to take a short walk. It is difficult sometime to have a long conversation with her. She is very cognizant, but she loses her train of thought very easily, even more so than I. She is still an amazing woman. God grant that I can someday be half her equal.

My sweet son, Peter, flew in from Boise to see me off tomorrow. I sometimes wonder how my children turned out so exceptional with such a flighty mother. The one thing I did teach them, more by words sometimes than example, was the power of choice. They have all made mostly good choices in life. We met Edward and Rebecca for dinner at Olive Garden. When we hugged goodbye I promised them quality time in Oahu when they come to visit me.

Matthew, Peter, and I are all going down to Vancouver to visit Gigi this morning. She has bladder cancer. This may be our last chance to see her. She has been a great blessing in our lives, and I have postponed making this trip too long. I may have postponed it again because there is so much for me to do still, but my persistent husband, recognizing how important this will be for me in the long run, insisted to the point of irritation. I will be grateful to him for that gift for a long time.