On the Move

"All knowledge is not taught in one school."

Hawaiian Proverb

[Photo by Johnson, aka Lohuna Konu]

I became a mother when I was just nineteen years old. Almost 40 years later I wonder how it is that sometimes being a mother is easy and fun ... well, maybe not exactly easy but less work than other times ... and sometimes I the absolute hardest job in the world. Cowboy, astronaut, brain surgeon ... nothing quite compares to being a mother when your children, even your grown and independent children, are having a hard time. Mothers and grizzly bears are cut from the same cloth if it looks like their children are in some kind of extremis.

Still there comes a time when mothers have to step back and let their babes make their own decisions. Maternal hand wringing and nail biting has to be done in private; tears have to be shed behind closed doors. It's as much a mother's job to say a silent prayer that God will travel with him, then wave goodbye and smile as it is to change stinky diapers. The reward is being allowed to stand there arms wide open when the prodigal kids come back home.

Last week my son packed up his few remaining possessions, said his farewells to Key West, drove to Miami and hopped on a plane headed for Hawaii. H-A-W-A-I-I ????? God Golly Miss Molly, could he have picked a place any farther away from home? Well, yeh, he could have decided on Timbuktu as his new home (and from what I heard today, that might still be an option!).

His move was a well planned operation. He did his homework, lined up interviews, down-sized his belongings, and kept his cool instead of burning bridges. While his father and I worried about the wisdom of leaving what seemed to us like a perfectly good job, my man/child convinced himself that he was on the right path. He used his head but listened to his heart. For a chicken-little like me this sounded kind of scary. But it was also a good lesson in following your dreams.

Thus, Key West Johnny is now hanging loose in Waikiki. In between job interviews he is checking out the beaches he fell in love with on his first solo visit to his Aunt Linda. He's found time for a few photo shoots and a hair cut. In a true test of guardian angel protection, he lost (and found) his cell phone which is his only means of communication for the time being. He called home this afternoon and I must say it was delightful to hear his voice. He sounds good. Happy. Just the way this mom likes it to be.

Hawaiian is a funny language. "The entire Hawaiian alphabet is made up 5 vowels and 7 consonants (h,k,l,m,n,p and w)." To me it all sounds pretty much alike. According to a learn how to speak Hawaiian site, the trick is to break the words down into syllable for example

humuhumunukunukuapua'a is pronounced hu-mu-hu-mu-nu-ku-nu-ku-a-pu-a-a. Honolulu Johnny will now be known as "Lohuni". It has a certain ring to it, don't you think?

There was a time in my life when I thought if I could twitch my nose and land on a secluded island beach I'd be happy forever. The real trick to that kind of happiness is more like "bloom where your are planted." He's way too far away but I feel sure Lohuni is where he needs to be. And like a sweet smelling pikake blossom that thrives in the tropical sun, I believe he is going to continue to grow into the person he is meant to be.

Aloha oukou,

Merry ME

*www.bio-beetle.com/hawaiianlanguage.htm