Sunsets for Dad ~ Forever

All day I felt a bit apprehensive.

Well ~~ all the while I've been 'in charge' of my Father's box of Ashes, I've felt a bit odd.
Not bad odd.
Just a tad bit odd.
As if there was a weight on my shoulders.
In our last visit, he'd requested to come back to Hawai'i.

Around 5pm Hawai'i time, we put the 'box' in the Jeep and jumped in. My son and his wife drove me to the Old Kona Airport Beach.
I wore a 1965 vintage dress that had been made for my mother by Doi's of Kawaihae.
I felt elegant in the dress.
The mumuu flowed around me ... to just above my ankles.

I pointed to the path that Dad and I had used in 2001.
*There,* I said to my son and his wife.
*That's the place, pull in and park by that sign.*
Before Ed and Joy even got out, I found my feet leading me down the path towards the ocean.
To my relief, the tree was still there.
The picnic table still chained to the tree.
I glanced towards the north. Yes, there was 'the rock'. This was the place. My son and his wife caught up with me.
I dropped to the sand, lava, and coral chips...that made up the beach... and began digging with a piece of flat lava that my son had handed to me.

No special words really.
I had none.
For Dad and I exchanged few words here, but simply enjoyed each others company.
The sun was setting soon.
This was the right time, the right moment.
The tide was coming in.
I dug quickly, my son dropped by my side and began to dig also. We stopped.
*Big enough?* he asked. [Thank you Joy for taking photos...]
*Big enough.*
I opened the black box.
The box that had traveled on several airplanes and had waited a long time for its contents to be released.
The ashes looked like ground up lava rocks, with chunks...but nothing very large.

I pulled the twist tie off the bag [it was not difficult to open the plastic box]. I felt the contents through the bag. Felt its consistency.

I touched the ashes.
Yes Dad, had been gone for 5 years.
But.
This was a 'mission'...his final trip to the place where he was always happy.
A place where he always enjoyed the sunsets.
Ed, Joy, and I gathered bits of white coral and made a circle.
Then I laid a Hawai'ian head lei in a circle over the coral.

Everything was biodegradable...no harm to the environment.
I felt a sob pull tight in my throat as I gently patted the sand.
I felt happy ~ yet sad.

I did and didn't want to let go of his ashes...the last physical connection I had to my Dad.
I sat back with my camera and took some photos of one of the most gorgeous Hawai'ian sunsets that I'd ever seen.
This was the right place.
This was the right time.
I said Aloha to my father with my head bowed. ...and then I said Mahalo quietly, and thanked him for being my father. Mahalo Dad, may your sunsets always be spectacular.

Side note~~~
We went to dinner afterwards at the Kona Brewery.
Just before we left the singer strummed up the song *White Sandy Beaches* and *Over the Rainbow*.

Yeah that did it for me...I cried when we got back home and sat on the porch watching the moon rise over the Mauna Loa Preserve.

Making plans

It is time.

I said I'd do it, now I need to make the plans to make my words come true.
I promised myself when my father died, that I'd go back to the land he loved so much and go with my camera...and me. Plus his memory.

I'd go back to the Big Island where so many happy childhood memories still bounce around. Those days seemed endless to a child. I'm sure that the month flew by with alarming speed for my father and mother.

I accompanied dad in October of 2001. We stayed for two weeks and had a wonderful time. He was 83 years old and the roles had been reversed. I was the 'parent' and had to organize every minute of our day, including naps.

He was the child.
It was his job to curiously [and madly] ask me every five minutes of a road trip~~
*Are we there yet?*
or
*I gotta go, where's a bathroom?*
*I want some candy!*
*I'm hungry!*

It was my first return trip to Hawai'i since 1973. Things had changed. I now drove, dad did not.
He was legally blind and a bit frail.
He could be wonderfully irritating [I may not have thought it at the time, but in retrospect, he was quite funny in an odd way].

This was his gift to me, although I did not realize it at the time.

It was a gift of memories to carry with me forever, even after he was gone.

We stopped at a restaurant to eat one afternoon after a road trip. I'd read reviews about the place and it looked a bit local, but inviting.
We walked up to the doorway were the entrance split into two directions.
To the left a bar.
To the right an open dining room.

There was music and voices in the dim lit bar, some laughter, some in what sounded like Hawaiian speech.
Dad grabbed my arm, and in a panicked voice said, *We have to get out of here before we get mugged! They'll see we are white and tourists, they sound native to me, ...maybe toughs!*

Despite my assurances that we would not get mugged, dad insisted. In fact he stalked off and went back to the Dodge Neon we rented and got in, refusing to get back out.

So our trip went. We had adventures.
We had talks.
We 'connected' with each other like this father and daughter had never done.
We laughed, we reminisced.

And one day while sitting in the shade at the Old Kona Airport Beach State Park, dad said to me.
*This is where I want to be, god forbid I die. Here, right here. Everything comes together right here. Memories of you children, my love for your mom...the happiness we had in Hawai'i.*

I looked around. Surely dad was a very young 80'ish fellow, but I would follow his wish, for his heart never left Hawai'i since the first time he saw in in January 1965.
And so I promised him...

I looked at the place we loved to sit and watch the waves. Our favorite place.
Could I remember this tree?

Could I recall this rock with the crashing waves?


Well, I do recall the fun we had.

So now it is time.
Time to return.
...as promised.