Aloha Moments, Aloha Years

Back in 2008 when Bill and I slipped away for a long weekend at the J.W. Marriott at Ko Olina on O'ahu I was so skeptical. Hawaii seemed like a cliché tourist attraction--right up there with Las Vegas.

There is a reason people come here--
And there is a reason people come back.

We had to bring the kids the next year and we still had flight benefits and all these Marriott points that were hard earned from Bill traveling when the kids were still pretty little.

Then my dad died and we had to share all this with my mom.

Then we couldn't leave out my sister and her family.

Then that got complicated and we just brought Savannah, and now we are back to the four of us and my mom.

The truth is, I wish I could bring everyone. I feel guilty for everyone who is not here. I wish my sister was here too.

Now, on our eighth trip--this has become the tradition. This is the Kotrba version of the Stephens' road trip out west. Waimea Beach is the new Black Hills. The east shore is the new Mt. Rushmore. The hike to the western tip is the new Avalanche Lake Trail. All the hours in the car and setting up camp at Glacier and beyond--to my kids it's a long flight and a bucket of sunscreen. This is what they will remember.

I didn't know that the ocean would bring me just as close to God as the mountains. I didn't know that power is power. Creation sings everywhere you look. I didn't know that seeing a monk seal would be just as amazing as seeing a moose. I didn't know that whales flapping their tales would be little winks from above.

I didn't know that for a few days we could all survive in a two bedroom hotel suite and live in a swimsuit and a couple pairs of shorts and a tee-shirt. No make-up. No blow drier. Same socks everyday. Simple. Simpler.

I used to make barbie houses at every campsite--with sticks and rocks and moss. Calvin makes extravagant sand castles. Mary collects tiny tiny shells.

I try to balance the mental health benefits of soaking up a winters' worth of vitamin D versus the threat of skin cancer and even those nasty brown spots. I imagine the dermatologist scolding me and then I decide that I just don't care. Life is short and winter is long. I ask God why being in the sun is a such a risk and causes such damage to our visage. Seems like a mistake equal to the creation of mosquitos.

The days go by. At first it seems like you have forever. Then you start to hate the people who are just checking in. The dwindling groceries in the fridge mark time.

Today we went to Matsomoto Shave Ice, the hole in the wall grocery store with the iconic shaved ice cones. People line up down the street and there is no place to park and worse. . . no place to pee.

This year. . . a remodel. Public restrooms. A parking lot. A new store. Progress?  It's enough to make a 13 year old boy sentimental. And it did.

Time marches on.

I didn't know the the island of O'ahu would become a sacred place. A place where nature and wildlife and a pina colada at 4:00 would all mingle together. A place my husband would take 1,000 pictures and grow his whiskers.

Turns out it wasn't exactly like Las Vegas after all.

Aloha--and I say from the bottom of my heart--wish you were here.