Life Reflections

My grandmother passed away in December, 2012. She was just slightly over 100 years old. As I reflect on her life, I think that she was among the most remarkable women I have ever known. She was born in the plantations of Maui, married, was widowed, married again, and raised 7 daughters.  She opened a supermarket after the end of WWII with her 2nd husband, whom she remained with until his death.

She had 19 grandchildren, all of whom loved her to pieces. All of us would like to think that each of us, individually, was her favorite. That's how she was. She made all of us feel special. For me, I loved her stories. They were like little time capsules for me, told in the pidgin-english patois that we speak here, even stronger than normal, and all the more colorful by the strange Chinese/Japanese//Spanish/Filipino words picked up by a childhood spent in the plantation life on Maui.

I remember stories of the supermarket, where my grandpa painted the weekly specials on the window. And the stories of the wartime, when my mom was an infant, and she got my grandpa a job on the plantation, and then convinced him to start doing block printing on linoleum tiles with the world's first paint roller (made of clothes hanger and hose pipe). Or the tales of looking for grandpa's book on Sunday for his weekly radio reading (and finding them in the wood pile).

It's hard to believe that she's been gone for nearly a year.  I went home recently to visit my parents, and her room was empty. Devoid of her, and her things, the house didn't feel right.  It felt cavernous and empty, lonely and quiet. I caught myself walking into her room nearly every day to tell her hello - only to find an empty bed, and no reclining chair.

I miss you, Grandma.