I was totally inspired by a woman. We shared beach sand together.
She was sifting through the sand looking for tiny white shells, shells perfect as the day they were born, some as small as a dot on this page. She told me that she and her husband used to do it, and the one to find the smallest shell got to choose the restaurant for their evening meal. Her daughter and grandson were visiting her for her birthday, so she sat and sifted while they played in the surf.
If we should meet again we have a password, “Baby’s Birthday,” as she lives somewhere in our vicinity although our “Cavier” beach is about 90 minutes away. It is Black Sands Beach, where Baby D loves to squish moist sand, and where fresh water pools abound at ocean’s edge, and where the sea turtles play, and where, according to legend the turtles come to protect the children, and where we came to celebrate Baby D’s birthday.
I’ve been asking people why they moved here. My beach friend said husband came here without her and bought a house. That was it. Because it was his dream and she loved him, she moved, but she missed her family. It rained constantly, she couldn’t find the things she was used to, she would stand in the back yard, in the rain, and cry. He said they could move back if she was so unhappy, but she said she would adjust, and now six years later she won’t leave. Her husband passed away three years ago, her daughter and grandson urge her to move to the mainland, but this is home. This is Aloha.
Look it up she says. Aloha means more than love or hello or goodbye, it is a way of life. It is giving without expecting anything in return. It unfolds as time goes by. It was her attitude of Aloha that inspired me. She is widowed, lives on $700 a month, and before her husband died, a “friend” stole practically everything they had. But her house is paid for, she manages, and she seemed happy.
A woman at the propane store, said that while some people think she is native, she was raised in San Francisco, her son went to Stanford, she had a hard time adjusting. There was a couple at a Restaurant we spoke with, he lived here all his life, she came, visited, stayed.
People come, they become a part of the Island, they stay. There are intellectuals here, implants who do not take much stock in appearances. I am learning not to judge a book by its cover. The little town of Pahoa could easily be passed by. It looks set back in time, many roofs are rusted, some places are shabby, but we walked into a restaurant the other day, Kalies, and while it didn’t look like much outside, it was cute as anything on the inside—painted red, with a lovely bar, and exquisite food. Someone said this was an eatery town, a Mexican restaurant, a couple of Thai restaurants, a good Pizza place—take out, no ambiance for eating in, there is a fish and chips place down the road we haven’t tried, and other places we haven’t hit yet.
Here is some information I found about Aloha. It sounds like living in a state of grace.
“Aloha is the coordination of mind and heart…it is within the individual. It brings you down to yourself. You must think and emote good feelings to others.”
A stands for AKAHAI, meaning kindness to be expressed with tenderness.
L stands for LOKAHI meaning unity, to be expressed with harmony.
O stands for OLU’OLU meaning agreeable, to be expressed with pleasantness.
H stands for HAAHA’A meaning humility, to be expressed with modesty.
A stands for AHONUI meaning patience, to be expressed with perseverance.
I have a lot to learn.
