July 31, 2007

• Coming Home.

  My mom has never been one to tell you how she feels.  I'm not sure whether it's a byproduct of growing up in a home with 3 brothers or her dutiful, rural upbringing as the daughter of a minister, but she hardly ever says how she feels and usually will only say The Three Words if I say them first before hanging up.  Even after my father died one of the few things she said to me was, "your father was a good man." 

  But I know how she feels.  I know how she feels because the absence of words can't hide everything.  She has this habit of shedding tears whenever one of her children comes home.  I remember once back in college in the days before 9/11 she waited at the airport gate and then broke into tears when she saw me emerge from the tunnel with my guitar in one hand and heart in the other.  And though she does not speak of my father much, she still visits his grave every week to adorn it with freshly cut flowers.  In an island filled with bountiful flowers, there is still not enough for that one patch of grass to show how much it is worth.

  They're all home now.  My oldest sister never left the island, planting in the sun-soaked land the roots of two rascal sons who have grown up so fast that my arms get pleasurably sore holding them up now.  My other two sisters are now home from ATL and NYC, bringing with them their husbands and the two loveliest and most precious nieces that I do not  deserve.  On the day my younger sister arrived she walked up the stairs and found my mother weeping.  When questioned why, she replied, "because you're home, you're finally home."  The next night when my twin sister arrived my mother spent the whole night watching her two grandaughters play together, her face shining like it was 4 years ago and he was still here.

  I smiled wistfully when my twin sister told me that her little one won't stop clutching the stuffed animal she named "Baba" that I got her for Christmas and one of the first things she said when she arrived home in Hawaii was, "where's Uncle Frank?" 

  I wonder what my parents did to us growing up that made us so tight knit.  We had our problems, of course.  I used to fart at my sisters, hide their stuffed animals or mess up their desks when I would be mad and I used to threaten my parents that I would go to law school instead of med school when they would harrass me about things.  But that's the past and the past, like regret, is something best left behind. 

  I was talking to someone once about my plans after fellowship is done this year and when I told him that I planned to move back to Hawaii in part to be close to my mom since my dad passed away, he responded by saying, "you need to be your own man and not let your mom run your life."  But he didn't get it because I *am* being my own man and this is the choice that I am making.  The men in my family have a tradition of passing away before their wives and if I want my children to treasure and take care of their mother as much as I would, then I need to teach them, to show them...I need to lead by example.

  Hawaii was a wonderful place to grow up as a child and to a local boy like me it is heaven, a place where even 7-Eleven serves spam musubi and the stresses of the daily grind can dissipate as you dip your toes in the ocean, which is always less than 15 minutes away.  But it's a horrible business decision for me to go back.  Physicians in Hawaii, like everyone else, work more to get paid less to pay more.  Add to that the unfriendly business environment created by the politicians' old boy network of the 70s and 80s and no matter what job I take, fiscally I'd be better off here on the mainland.

  But money isn't everything, is it?  If it is everything to you, then in reality all you have is nothing.

  So I'm hoping to find something that will enable me to go home next year.  And If I can't, then I will keep trying the next year.

  So I'll be home soon for good, mom, and you don't have to say anything when I arrive because I already know.

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  In my quest to lose 10% of my weight (a few posts ago), here is the latest weapon!

  

  It was free.99!  (Well, it was a gift.)

  Now I know that no one will ever mistake me for being a Top Chef, but I don't really have time to spend an hour in the kitchen.  

  

  Whatever vegetables you want...

  

  Marinated chicken (it's a secret )

  

  And here ya go!  I love this grill like Barbara Walters loves the sound of her own voice!  No cooking oil, nothing else added except the marinade and everything costs less than $6 (good enough for 2-3 meals) if you prorate the rice and lettuce!  Done in 15 minutes, leaving me more time to do check my comments.   Edit: You wrap the meat and rice in the lettuce!

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  For your listening pleasure, which Canon in D do you like better?

  Have a great weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!  I'm out like Barry Bond's 'roid secret.

  • 10:08 am
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