Recollections

I don't remember if I wrote most of the following on the flight out to Hawaii or while I was on the ground, but I trust Google to save my documents more than paper. So here it is.


Before I left on the trip, the night before, I had dinner with my grandparents at their place in Bethesda. My grandmother made the standard quality, lavish fare, chicken marsala and the works. And I had yet another "bonus" chance, as she likes to call it, to listen and watch them enjoy their remaining time together.

Grandpa went out to the course that morning and did his best to work his way through 18 holes. With record highs, the temperature surpassed his age (which doesn't happen very often). He did say that toward the end of the trip, he was having trouble swinging the club at all.

During dinner, we talked about the details of my trip. I know and, at the time of this writing, KNOW very little. But he had spent a good amount of time [in Hawaii].

His father had an expansive career as a naval officer and was, at one point, an active member of Harry Truman's War Cabinet during the second world war. My great-grandmother, his mother, was actually living on the islands when the Japanese attacked in 1941. My grandmother was wise enough to interview her on tape to get a first-hand account of the siege. Her tone on the recording was expectedly somber, but she herself also realized the historic value of her experience. Two of my grandfather's brothers, who I never met, were in the house doing whatever children do. They were drawn outside by a buzzing which they expected to be American planes in formation... training, perhaps. That day, they saw the first wave of fighters and kamikazes on their way to Pearl Harbor on the other side of the island.

My grandfather was in Annapolis at the Naval Academy at the time, I believe. His father and the rest of the crew on the USS Battleship Texas had been dispatched to the central Pacific only two days earlier on December 5. Otherwise, they would have been carrying out their normal duties according to schedule right there in the harbor. I can't imagine the news, the alarm, when my grandfather heard of the attack. His mother and brothers were all physically fine, but the infamous damage took its toll. During dinner (I've been on planes all day and am having a hard time accepting the fact that I was just eating w/ them last night), my grandfather had to stop and think hard as to whether or not his two younger brothers went to the harbor that day to help pull bodies out of the water. He concluded they did not. But his mother, as a ranking officer's wife, ended up consoling numerous wives whose families were destroyed that morning. he said she acted in this role for several weeks.

Pardon the discontinuity, but I just had a tremendous turkey sandwich. Zero of my three planes were on time today. And I didn't have any time to either get something to eat or drink in between. So... I just bit the culinary bullet and bought the $10 sandwich. It was outstanding.

So... previously, I suppose I was talking about something other than a turkey sandwich. At this point, I find that notion rather unlikely. Let me investigate by reading what I've already written and count the number of references to turkey sandwiches.

Well that was disappointing. Forgive me for making light of such a serious topic. But according to the accounts I've heard, there were no turkey sandwiches at Pearl Harbor from Dec. 5-7, 1941. I will ask my grandfather the next time I see him for confirmation.

Pearl Harbor aside, my grandfather had other stories. He said the snorkeling is divine and I have to make time to do it. I told him I most certainly would. But the story to which I relate the most at present is his first trip out to Hawaii. The story is brief, but it made me think/reflect for a moment. And the bridge between something happening and me making you goons read about it is whether or not it makes me reflect.

Jack was at the Naval Academy and he received word from his father that he (Jack) would be spending the summer out there. Some kind of transport took him out to either LA or Coronodo where he waited for "orders" or, more likely, an escort of some kind. Anyway, he mentioned that there were any number of ships he could have ended up using. But he was directed to a "boat" in the most formal sense. As opposed to a battleship or something of a similar class (cruised at or above 20mph), he was taken to what he referred to as, "...a real POS... only went around 8 miles an hour the whole way." He went on to explain that it took a little over two weeks for him to get from the California coast to the big island of Hawaii.

And this put everything into perspective this afternoon. As it happens, "this afternoon has lasted about 10 hours so far. And as we chase the sun into tomorrow at 38,000 feet, I don't suspect it will change in the immediate future. But I digress. Perspective. Mine has been adjusted.

I was all bent out of whack because I might have had to sleep in LAX and go to Hawaii about 12 hours later. And I had to stop and think about the true measure of convenience we all have at our disposal.

Be grateful both for your survival and for the wisdom you have gained through the pain and sorrow of the past.

[a small tune struck me the next day or two after settling into the breeze on the island...]

Oh you came, you talked
you laughed, you walked

ah ye celebrate

you've got a whole lot of life to go
give your best to those you know
float the river... enjoy the show
and celebrate

[I'll finish it up at some point. I put some bliss in my pocket out there and I only hope I haven't put those pants through the wash yet.]



[and I'm pretty sure the remainder is from the flight back]

Artificial love must include selfish intentions classified and erected as anything not directed towards the audience. This only takes place in active conversation. There is time for selfish thought. This time, this thought, is reserved for personal reflection. Must there be--

There must be time for personal reflection.

I'm on the plane ride home now. And the trip was akin to discovering a new world. Some people never get to live the thrill. Others live it and, I suppose, they never share the knowledge they found.

The green was greener and the rain was more watery. The wind never sat and the sun was content to move its own speed. The waves ran their own course all day and every day.

Time spend with family was time well spent, even along the adversities. Friends were met and, presumably, family was made.

The reason for the initial bit here in this entry was the death beach we visited during the first week. The Minihuni (sp?) were an ancient people and maintained royal roles from birth. One of these obligations was bestowed upon the "royal companions"" of sorts. The royal entity was never to be alone.

In fact, the first individual borne after the royal individual, be it hours or days after the birth, was effectively obligated to remain by the royal individual's side indefinitely. Regardless the circumstance, the royal one was never to be alone. No matter what happened, that person would always have counsel, direct empathy, to assist in the decision-making process. This relationship would last to the death. And the finality would manifest at Polihale, the death or dying beach.

The name was given to the beach because the pocketed cliffside was used to bury/hide the bones/remains of the royal entity. As the sole purpose of the lifelong companion was companionship, his/her services were no longer needed at the conclusion of the royal one's life.

The companion would be lowered by rope over the towering cliffs while clutching a bucket or some recepticle with his friend's remains.

The Hawaiians consider the physical remains eternally relevant to the soul's well-being after death. A person's power was retained in their bones after death and it was therefore of the utmost importance to conceal the specific location of the remains of each leader.

After the companion would locate a sufficient place for his/her friend's remains, the individual would tug the rope to signal success and the others at the top of the cliff would cut the rope and allow the companion to fall to his/her death on the rocks below. This was how their ancient culture ensured their leaders' powers were kept safe. The cliffs are referred to as "the jumping-off point for spirits." And the view is astounding.

The couple sitting next to me is returning from the same island. We are now on the second plane en route to Dallas and they're going to Baltimore as well. I just had to break from my recollections to save on paper their strength. In their silence, they remind me likes do exist. They intend to move to the island within the next year. That doesn't relate to my path. But it's comforting knowing, being shown, that likes exist.

Descent into Dallas.


>>No music tonight. WallE is on HBO.