Aunty Keala.

Yesterday, we received the news that my Aunty Keala passed away. 

It was a shock to me because it was so quick, but due to her suffering you can't help but be thankful that it didn't ravage her body any longer. I have so many thoughts, but I can't help but think of the way that I was so individually blessed throughout my day yesterday.
As soon as I heard the news, I left work because I knew my Mom would be at my Dad's treatments and I didn't want her to go through this horrific news alone.  I was worried if she'd be able to drive.  I showed up to my Dad's treatment center and her car was no where insight.  I called her, reached her vm and she called back a minute later.  She already heard the news and took a moment to mourn her sister.  My Mom has a unique way of dealing with death; we all deal with death differently.  Since she said she was alright, I decided to go visit the Buzz family.
The Buzz family means the world to me, I carry them in my heart.  I've mentioned them several times on my blog because I love them as my own family.  I've had the distinct pleasure of watching their family grow and most recently grow again.  Since I was in the area, I swung by their house and held their beautiful baby boy.  It was heavenly.

It was a surreal moment.  I was on very different ends of life; one that ended and one that was barely beginning.  It really affected my heart, yesterday.  It was a beautiful experience, one of many that I was going to have yesterday.  I loved holding that Buzz baby.  It was cool that I got to watch him for a bit yesterday as Reed ran out to go get the rest of the kids.  She told me that I was his first babysitter, just like I was her oldest/twins' first babysitter.  I liked that.  It was a lovely break from mourning.
When I left the Buzz family, I decided it was time to go check in on my Mom who would have finally been home with my Dad.  As I neared their exit, I was on the phone with my sister and we both decided it would be best to check in on my cousin Fray to see if he and his family needed dinner.  As I pulled up to their home, I saw a van also pulling up and thought I had picked the wrong moment to visit them.  As Fray's wife, Holly greeted me at the door she asked if I wanted to spend some time with Aunty Keala.  I was highly confused. I didn't know what she meant.  Since my Aunt was on hospice care at my cousin's home, the funeral home was the van that just pulled up along with me. 
I'm not gonna lie, it was a different type of experience, one that I had never had before.  I'm glad I saw my Aunt 2 weeks ago, so I was somewhat prepared for the scene I was approaching.  I was physically hesitant.  I've only ever seen a dead body in a casket, this was entirely different.  When I walked in, she looked like she was only sleeping.  She looked so much like my Tutu (my grandmother, her mother).  There was a chair next to her hospital bed.  I assumed that this is where I was to sit.  I've always been extremely hesitant to place myself so close to the dead.  My Dad always "joked" that he would jump out of his casket to scare me when he died....not helpful, Dad.  She looked peaceful, almost like a slight smile on her slightly parted lips.  I tried to sit close. I tried to stand over her.  I tried to sit on the twin size bed that was parallel to her bed, just 3 feet away.  I finally sat on the chair, next to her bed, near her head.  I talked to her, but I didn't feel like I was talking to her.  I felt like I was talking to a shell of a body.  I know her spirit wasn't in there, I felt as though her spirit was on the foot of the bed, next to me.  I felt like she was watching me interact with her body, listening to the things I was saying to her, wanting to reassure me that she loved me and forgave me.  I told her that I loved her. I told her to say hi to Kuku and Tutu for me.  I told her that I was so sorry for the way I treated her during the summer when I ignored her at my Dad's rehab center.  I told her that I was only trying to protect my Dad and I know that she was only trying to serve my Mom. I always felt so awful for that and never had the chance to truly apologize for it.  I felt like she knew that I'm my Dad's daughter and she understood.  I felt a small tinge of forgiveness because she's known me all my life and knew how stubborn, how strong-willed I can be like my Dad.  In those few short minutes, I felt like she knew me and loved me for all of my strengths and for all of my shortcomings.  I was ok. 
I could hear the funeral home directors prepare my cousin for the next steps and I felt like my time with my Aunt was coming to a close.  It was a very personal, intimate moment.  One that I doubt that I will ever experience again.  I didn't quite say the words, goodbye.  I left her room and joined Fray's teenage daughter, Ipo on the couch.  When they rolled her body out, I was trying not to cry.  I didn't want to upset her.  It was hard.  I watched her rolled down the hall, through the living room, out the front window and finally placed into the van out the side window.  I couldn't handle it any longer.  I started to sob.  I thought of the family dynamics and how they would change. I thought about family gatherings that would no longer be the same.  I thought about Fray's older daughter who wasn't there and wished she could have been there with us in this very surreal, intimate moment. 
When my cousin came in, he went to my Aunt's room and I heard him wiping something up.  I walked back there and sincerely asked what I could do.  I looked around and knew that this would going to take me out of my comfort zone completely.  I had never felt this surge of service that I just wanted to give to him and his family, but most especially him.  We hugged again and I told him that the only thing that has been giving me peace today was the thought of her being reunited with her long departed husband, Fray's Dad who passed away close to 50 years before.  I didn't mean to make Fray tear up.  I couldn't help but be happy for my Aunt and her union with so many loved ones who had passed on before; my Tutu & Kuku, my Uncle Ned (her younger & only brother), my Uncle Walter (her brother-in-law), and all of her many cousins and friends. 
I left my cousin and Holly to have a moment to themselves.  I started to look at the photos in their living room.  When my cousin came out, we were sitting by ourselves and we started to talk about my Aunt's last day.  I tried to listen and grasp everything he said so I could hold onto it with all my heart.  I tried to listen as my sister would and prayed to know what I could offer in response.  I quickly thought of Job, from the Bible, after he lost everything and everyone he loved...
 
11 ¶Now when Job’s three friends heard of all this evil that was come upon him, they came every one from his own place; Eliphaz the Temanite, and Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite: for they had made an appointment together to come to mourn with him and to comfort him.

 12 And when they lifted up their eyes afar off, and knew him not, they lifted up their voice, and wept; and they rent every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven.

 13 So they sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great.

 

I just wanted to be this for my cousin.  I just listened and in that moment, he looked so old to me.  Fray has always had a very fun loving, upbeat demeanor about him.  The weight of all of this aged him so much.  We talked for a little bit longer and then he was called away by multiple phone calls.  I ended up visiting with Holly and Ipo and I 'm glad I could be there for them too.  I just wanted to help lighten the air and change the topic of the day for a little bit.  A short while later their good friend and Relief Society president came over with dinner.  I ended up joining them for dinner.  There was a very palpable absence in their home.  I felt like I was intruding on their very personal and intimate evening, yet I felt welcomed....as I always have in their home.  I stayed for another hour and felt like it was time I needed to check in on my Mom. As I left, I hugged all of them and told my cousin to let me know how I could help for her services.  I told him that I would very much like to play the organ for her services. 

My home ward shared the same chapel as my Aunt & cousin's ward.  For a while, I was the organist for my ward as my Aunt as was the organist for hers. While I would play the postlude music at the close of my services, she would come up and sit next to me and we would chat for a little bit.  I didn't mind because she knew how to chat with me as I played the organ; yes/no questions, short stories that needed no verbal response.  Sometimes, she would just sit there and that was nice.  It was something that we had in common, one of the very few hobbies that we shared. 

I visited with my parents for a bit and surprisingly my Mom was ok.  I think she came to terms with it a while back.  I didn't stay long and told them that I would check in tomorrow.  When I was getting ready to leave, our family friend Edge came over from the chapel across the street to check in on my parents.  I stayed a bit longer and he said that he was on his way back to church.  I decided to go with him so I could practice the organ.  It had been so long since I played that organ my Aunt and I used to share.  I could feel her cheering me on.  No different than earlier times, I just couldn't see her but I could feel her presence and see her smile.  I could hear her giving me advice.  I could hear her tell me how much she liked to play the hymns starting at the beginning of the hymn book.  I know I wasn't alone in that chapel, last night.

As I got ready to leave, I walked out to the foyer where two missionaries were just getting ready to leave too.  I was so happy because I didn't want to walk alone in the dark to my car outside the church gates. They walked me to my car as they proceeded to walk on to their apartment.  I had a short friendly chat with one of the Elders who served close to my home in east county.  It was a welcomed distraction. 

Somehow, in my this very sad and grief filled day, I felt blessed by the very personal and individual blessings I had received all throughout my day. The timing of all of these events could only have come from the hand of God. How could I have shown up just moments before my Aunt's body was to be taken away?  How could the timing matched up so perfectly for me to practice the organ last night and then not have to walk alone in the dark?  I know God is so perfectly aware of our needs, our desires, our struggles, our sorrows. I have felt comforted by the Holy Ghost, in the sweet reassurance of families being reunited after this life.  God is very aware of us, very aware of me and I know He loves me. I have felt blessed in my moments of grief.  I know I'll see my Aunt again.  I hope she is talking story with all of our loved ones and enjoying her time with them. 

We will miss her immensely. 

 

"He Gave Me Space and Let Me Fly"

“He Gave Me Space and Let Me Fly”

Church magazines: Why has your marriage been so happy for so long?

President Hinckley: The basis of a good marriage is mutual respect—respect for one another, a concern for the comfort and well-being of one another. That is the key. If a husband would think less of himself and more of his wife, we’d have happier homes throughout the Church and throughout the world.

Church magazines: Sister Hinckley, you have said that your husband “always let me do my own thing. He never insisted that I do anything his way, or any way, for that matter. From the very beginning he gave me space and let me fly.” ¹ How has he done that?

Sister Hinckley: He never tells me what to do. He just lets me go. He has made me feel like a real person. He has encouraged me to do whatever makes me happy. He doesn’t try to rule or dominate me.

Church magazines: President, you have said: “Some husbands regard it as their prerogative to compel their wives to fit their standards of what they think to be the ideal. It never works.” ²How have you avoided doing this with Sister Hinckley?

President Hinckley: I’ve tried to recognize my wife’s individuality, her personality, her desires, her background, her ambitions. Let her fly. Yes, let her fly! Let her develop her own talents. Let her do things her way. Get out of her way, and marvel at what she does.

---------

I've always loved this article on President & Sister Hinckley. It is from the October 2003 Ensign. I've been thinking about it, a lot, recently. It makes me think of how my sweetheart treats me in the same fashion. I'm lucky, really.  

I can be a restless person. I'm always thinking, my mind is on to the next project or task at hand. I like to march to the beat of my own drum. I don't like to sit still a whole lot. No, I don't have ADD/ADHD. I like things done a certain way, usually my way. [Definitely still a learning process in marriage :) ] Lately, I've been thinking a lot of how to make our place more of our home. Through all of this, I'm lucky to have a good man by my side that lets me be. I think I consider this a blessing just because of how life was for my maternal grandmother (Tutu) and how life can sometimes be for my Mom. I don't know how to describe it exactly, but my maternal grandfather (Kuku) was very dominant. I think it took a toll on my Tutu and left an impression on my Mom. I never wanted to easily give into being a submissive wife. I think I live in an entirely different era as my Mom and Tutu; times are much different now. I feel like I have this wild spirit to speak my mind and do what makes me happy. I am blessed to have a strong partner who encourages my talents and supports my dreams & goals. He listens to me and considers my opinions. I respect him as the head of our family and in turn, he treats me as his equal. He gives me space and lets me fly, to which I am most grateful.

3 years & General Conference.

Yesterday, marked 3 years since this wonderful man changed my life...

We tried to think of so many different places to celebrate our anniversary but we couldn't agree on any one place...but we could agree on wanting breakfast. Hellooooo Denny's.  It didn't really matter where we ate, we could have gone to McDonald's and it still would have been fun.  

He didn't know I was taking these photos of him. I just love his face so much.  It's always so peaceful for me.

"Sometimes home isn't 4 walls, it's 2 eyes and a heartbeat"

That is what Levi is for me.  He is so patient when I don't deserve it, he makes any situation 1000x better and life is brighter having him by my side.  

I love this photo of us. I love his smile.  I'm so lucky and sometimes I don't appreciate it as much as I should, but I'll never stop trying. 

Levi and I watched a few talks during the Saturday morning session of General Conference.  Elder Maynes gave a beautiful talk.  It was so nice to watch General Conference again.  There was a beautiful spirit that could be felt from the talks that were given. 

I guess the talks affected me in such a way that I had a very vivid dream this morning.  In my dream, I was visiting my parents and my Dad asked me to say a prayer.  I remember the words of my prayer, I was expressing gratitude for those that attended my Dad while he was ill and for the safety & protection over my Mom in his absence.  Well, I think I caught myself talking and opened my eyes. My poor Levi was just staring at me. I think I mumbled something like, "I was praying in my dream" and then closed my eyes to finish my prayer.  It was so real, I remember all the details.  I think I've been thinking of prayer because last night, I thought of my Kuku & Tutu and how they used to kneel by the bed for their morning and evening prayers. It made me think of starting that with Levi.  Some of the most sincerest prayers I've offered up have been on my knees.  I think it would bring a sweet and humble element to our marriage.  With that said, it's late and I'm missing my sweetheart, I need to get to bed. G'nite.

Dia de los Muertos.

In honor of Dia de los Muertos today, I'd like to share an experience I had a couple months ago.
One morning, before work, I was scrolling through Facebook and came across a story a friend's niece had written for the Friend Magazine.  It was a sweet little story about two little girls who wondered what happened to their great-grandmother who had recently passed away.  They wondered if she was happy and with her loved ones.
On the way to work, as I was traveling on the freeway, the cars in front of me suddenly came to a screeching halt! The car directly in front of me stopped so fast that he swerved out of the lane to avoid the car in front of him.  I've never hit my brakes so hard before! I was already envisioning the aftermath.  To go from 70 mph to 0, in a couple seconds, can be a bit jarring. Luckily, by the grace of God, I was able to brake in time without any damages!  However, I was so shaken up because this situation could have ended A LOT worse!! I started crying because in an instance, I could have literally died and left my sweetheart and all my loved ones. I started to think back to that Friend story, and I thought about who would have greeted me in Heaven.
I thought about my maternal grandparents, Kuku & Tutu. 

 It's been about 12 years since I last saw them alive. I miss them. I wish I could hear them speak to each other in Hawaiian.  I wish I could kneel at my bedside with them every night and sit along side of them every morning, as they held hands, and prayed. I wish I could play the card game, "Speed" with my Tutu again.  I miss them so much and think about them often.  I look forward to the day that I'm reunited with them.

I thought about my Grandma Salote, my Dad's Mom that I'm named after.
Unfortunately, I never met her.  I can't say I've ever really talked to her.   She didn't speak English and I don't really speak Tongan.  I remember hearing her voice on long distant phone calls, as my Dad translated our conversation. My Dad told me that while she was alive, she would go around her village and share my photo with everyone she knew. She would tell her friends all about me.  As I look at her photo, I can see my Dad's face.  She passed away on a Sunday morning, in late September 1997.  I thought about what it would be like to meet her in Heaven.  I would hug her and hope that she would embrace me like we've known each other for a very long time.  I hope she has a nice view over me, from Heaven.


The next person I thought about was Levi's Mom who passed away a little over two years ago.

 Unfortunately, I never had the chance to meet her.  I would go up to her and tell her how Levi has been.  I would update her on her family.  Most of all, I would thank her for raising a very good son who makes me tremendously happy.  I would share my appreciation of teaching him not to judge, one of the first things Levi shared with me, about her.

I thought about my Uncle Ned, my Uncle Walter Wolfgramm, my Uncle Walter Fernandez, my Uncle Eddie & Auntie Moana, my dear friend Ana, Sister Donna Parke & Sister Joyce Sabine.  It consoled me to know that if and when the day comes for me to be "taken home to that God who gave them life", I know that there will be a joyous reunion of dear loved ones who have passed on before.  Until then, I will hold them in my heart and fondly remember them, most especially this weekend on Dia de los Muertos.  Aloha 'Oe.   

Jesus, my Friend.

Today is Easter.  So many of my thoughts have been about our Savior, Jesus Christ. I'm so grateful for the talks I heard at church, today.  Two of my dear friends spoke and it was good to hear their thoughts about the Savior and how the Atonement has touched their lives.  To quickly define what the Atonement is, it is everything that Jesus Christ has done on our behalf.  It is His great intercessory prayer that He offered up to Heavenly Father, giving up everything, even His life so that we could return back to our Heavenly Father.  It is Jesus Christ being willing to take upon Himself everything that would ever bring us down in this life; sin, emotional grief, burdens, transgression, etc...anything that would stand in our way of being one with our Heavenly Father.
As I listened to my friends' talks, it made me think of what makes me grateful to have Jesus Christ in my life.  Of all the experiences I've had in my life, one stood out in particular.
About eleven years ago, when I was on my mission, I received the devastating news that my Tutu (grandmother) had passed away.  It was sudden and without any warning.  That Wednesday morning, I received a call from my Mission President saying that I should call home, my Tutu was in the hospital.  A couple hours later, as I was reading my emails from home, my sister gave me the news of her passing.  I started weeping uncontrollably, I was devastated beyond belief.  I didn't care who heard or saw me; my heart was broken and my dear sweet Tutu was gone.  My missionary companion was embarrassed and in a snarky tone said, "WHY are you crying?! Geez!"  I wanted to run outside and cry my heart out on those library steps.  I didn't even get to say good-bye to my Tutu.  I felt a million times worse since I didn't call her for Mother's Day like I had wanted to. 
I cried all the way home.  It was a long silent ride home.  I called my Mission President to see if I could call home.   As I called home and wept on the phone, I was so overwhelmed with grief.  I just couldn't believe that in over a year's time I had lost both of my grandparents.  
I had never dealt with such tremendous grief, alone.  I felt so very alone, 3000 miles away from home and all my loved ones who had each other for support.  I felt no comfort or compassion from my companion.  I didn't know what to do besides cry and pray, because praying is what you do in all cases as a missionary.  So I prayed. 
I knelt down and prayed. I poured out my heart to my Heavenly Father because I felt alone and I felt like no one knew what I was feeling or going through. No one.  I offered up the most humble and sincerest of prayers because I had no one to talk to, except my Heavenly Father.  I wanted to know why He didn't allow me to see my Tutu after my mission.  Why I would have to suffer through this, away from my family, while I was in His service?  I kept telling Him that no one understood what I was feeling and that I was all alone.  I ended my prayer, but stayed on the floor, waiting for an answer or some comfort of peace.  Minutes later, a sweet spirit of reassurance enveloped me; I wasn't alone, not at all.  I came to know in a very real sense that there was One who had gone through what I was experiencing.   I wasn't alone, not at all.  Jesus, my friend, knew exactly of the grief that consumed my heart.  He was my friend that had gone through it all so that we would never have to carry the burdens of life, alone.  I wonder how Jesus might have felt when he received word that his cousin John was dead.  I wasn't alone anymore.  I had a Friend who knew exactly what I was feeling and that was the sweetest peace and comfort I could have ever received in my moment of sorrow.  I had a Heavenly Father who heard my pleas and a Savior who knew of the peace I so desperately needed.
So whenever I think of Jesus Christ and what he's done for my life, I am always brought back to this experience.  I am truly grateful for this experience and the testimony of Christ that I was blessed with. 
Do I know Jesus Christ?  Yes, he is my Friend.

Tutu.

Yesterday would have been my Tutu's (grandmother) birthday. She would have been 99 years young! :)  I think about her every day, mostly because I have this picture on my dresser to greet me:

It's been almost 11 years since she passed away.  I miss her voice, her scent and her leathery soft skin.  I look forward to the day I get to be in her presence again.  I miss her more than I can adequately express.  Since she and my Kuku lived in between Hawaii and Utah, I was use to long absences.  However, I know it will be a long time before I see her again, but just like my childhood, I know she still loves me and thinks about me...cause heaven knows I do the same each and every day.  

I love you, Tutu. Aloha mau no wau ia `oe.

\

Happy 98th Birthday Tutu.

Today is my Tutu's ("Grandmother" in Hawaiian) birthday.  Keala Kaaihue Aikau would have been 98 today.  She passed away 10 years ago, this August.  I miss her so very much.
She lived in Mililani, Hawaii and Orem, Utah, during most of my life.  She came with Kuku ("Grandfather" in Hawaiian) to visit about once a year, but it was always so hard to say good-bye.  I would cry uncontrollably every time they had to leave.  I loved having her come visit because she was so nice to me.  Out of her 17 grandchildren, I felt like I knew her the least.  At one point or another, 16 of her grandchildren either lived with her or vice versa (in her later years).  She taught me how to play the card game, "Speed".  When I started to improve, I started to feel bad that I would beat her, so I'd try to ease off. She could tell and would get mad when she caught me not playing to my full potential.  
I miss the feel of her soft, wrinkled skin.  She had this certain scent, but I can vaguely remember now.  I don't know how to describe it, but it was just her. She was small, maybe about 5 feet tall and thin.  She use to have long hair, that she would pin up in a bun.  I marveled at how she was able to pin all that hair up.  She liked to laugh, but she was a rather quiet woman.  It wasn't really Tutu's nature to be loud or the center of attention.  Kuku was more of the disciplinarian between the two of them.  I remember once talking back and I think that was the only time I heard her voice get loud.  After that, I never wanted to hear her raise her voice or have her get mad, because I felt 10x worse!
She was the only grandmother I knew, because my Tongan grandmother/Dad's mom lived in Tonga.  A couple days before Mothers Day 2003, I wanted to call her for the holiday.  I didn't want to call home and suffer the consequences of getting homesick, so I thought calling my Tutu would have been a better idea.  As the holiday approached, I decided it would mean more to call my Mom, since the only other time I'd get to call home was Christmas.  About two months before  I left for my mission, my Kuku passed away.  After his funeral, Tutu came down to San Diego to stay until it was time to take me to the MTC {missionary training center} in Provo, Utah.  It was such a wonderful time having her in our home.  At night, before bed, she would always read.  I still have the Ensign magazine she read during our last week together.  When it was time to go to the MTC, she came along.  The last thing I told her was that I looked forward to coming home so we could go to the temple together and do many Endowment sessions together.  Sadly, half way through my mission and exactly 15 months after Kuku passed, Tutu passed away.  I was grieved that I wouldn't be able to go to the temple with her again, but the experience of her passing gave me something much more.....a testimony of the healing comfort of the Atonement.   That was the best gift that I could have been given.
I miss her so much.  I wish I could have had one last chance to tell her how much I loved her.  I wish I could hear her voice again.  I wish I would have talked to her about Hawaiian names for my future babies, like I wanted to do before my mission but thought it was weird to even be thinking of such a thing. {She was fluent in the Hawaiian language.}  But in the end, it doesn't matter what I didn't get to do before her passing, because I have such sweet memories of her.  I think about her often, most especially when I wear her Turquoise ring that she left for me.  I cherish it.  I know I'll see her again.  I look forward to our sweet reunion, but for now, I'll treasure her memory in my heart.

Mother.

I received a pink Carnation at my parents new ward, for Mothers day. As I was smelling it right now, my Tutu came to mind. Makes me think back to when she would garden at my parents old house. I remember those little mini carnations. Smelling my pink carnation brought her back to life for me.  Oh I miss her so. 9 years ago, I wish I had called her on Mothers day, when I was on my mish.  I even asked my Mission President if that would be ok that I call her instead of my Mom.  I didn't want to get homesick and I knew that my twice a year phone call home would totally surprise her. I wish I did call her, that would have been the last time I spoke with her. I can't believe it's almost been 9 years since she passed away.  Time surely flies. 


I've been thinking a lot about Motherhood and being a mother, and all things related.  


I'm grateful for those women in my life who are wonderful examples of motherhood.  My sister gave a wonderful talk on motherhood, yesterday at church. I think she is a shining example of the kind of mother I hope to be, someday.  She is kind, loving, funny, very intelligent, personable and all around awesome.  I'm thankful to have Mama McK as well.  She couldn't have come into my life at a more perfect time.  She was a missionary here in SD about two years ago, which she also happened to be the mom of two of my friends.  She loves me unconditionally, gives me an earful when needed and has an empathetic heart at all times.  I love her dearly.   
I'm blessed with so many friends who are amazing moms to their young children. I listen to their experiences and watch them fulfill their roles with a loving heart.  Their children are blessed beyond measure to have the mothers that they do.  
As for my own mom, I've learned to perfect the art of civility and patience. We haven't had the best relationship in the last couple years.  It's been very difficult.  I've learned a lot more of what type of mom I hope to be someday.  We'll see.....