Comin' Apart at Every Nail

Crawford's Convalescent Home 

North Shore, Oahu

on living and legacies

My grandfather Earle, passed away while I was a sophomore in high school.  It was a hard loss for my family but, his passing was made easier by our shared knowledge of the Everlasting Gospel of Jesus Christ.  The blessings of the temple allow us the peace and comfort of knowing that through righteous living, we will be together as a family again and that the bonds which we created in this life will be perpetuated in the next.  

Today, as I was looking through my mother's Book of Remembrance, I found a letter which my grandpa wrote to her, almost forty years ago.  I couldn't help from crying as memories of his kindness and goodness came flooding back into my heart and mind.  What a humble man and amazing example.

This holiday season, his words spoke to me as if I were sitting with him in my Grandma's kitchen.

"Christmas is a time for giving and a time for sharing.  As your father, I must admit to a sense of sadness at this season.   More than anything this Christmas I suppose I covet the ability to shower my children with the gifts that fulfill the desires of your hearts and then to give each of you additions which you dared not hope for.  The sense of sadness comes in facing reality, in accepting the impossibility of showering each of you with the comforts and extravagances you deserve. As I have contemplated this Christmas, I realize there are things we have as a family which are far more precious than anything we can purchase.  Lynnell, there are feelings inside of me, there is a knowledge I have, there is a security I sense which is greater than the riches of the world or anything else I could give you this Christmas.  I pray that as time goes by these feelings will grow in your heart and become as important to you as they have become to me."

My grandpa found happiness in ham radio and telling stories to his grandchildren.  He would tickle us and tease us until our cheeks were red from laughter or our eyes were red from tears.  He never drove a nice car but loved spending time in nature with his hunting dogs and homing pigeons.  

One of the most important lessons I have learned from this great man is that you don't need to lead an extravagant life in order to leave an extraordinary legacy. 

Love you Grandpa Earle.

the big time

I threw the towel over my shoulder and grabbed my surfboard from the bed of the truck.  I walked briskly up the back stairs and into my house.  I was thankful that the back door had been left open, it meant that I didn't have to juggle opening the door while holding my bulky board.  I set her in the corner of the living area and ran into the bathroom where I ripped the cold wet-suit off of my body and pulled the sticky hair out of my face.  It's winter in Hawaii which means I have seen more rain than sun this past week.  The thought of a warm bath seemed inviting and comforting.  As I stood in the shower, hot water against my back, I seemed to be hyper-aware of my surroundings-- the spider crawling on the ceiling, the linoleum peeling off of the shower wall, the rust on every razor, and the sand which had never fully been washed down the drain.  Every little detail made me thankful for this place I have called home.  

The thick steam enveloped me and just as the taste of salt water and soap reached my lips, I began having flashbacks.  Flashbacks to so many of the memories which have accumulated over the past three years.  Memories of love, God, sun, heartbreak, bike rides, reef cuts, and rainstorms.  Every memory leading me to where I stood.  Leading me to today.  Leading me to where I am going.  

words

For that moment, we were in love.  

The stars, the only witness.

I was home when I heard the words you uttered 

and the stories you told.

I clung to your every movement,

and you grasped at the silence.

Soon, we divorced ourselves from the idea.

For I was I and You were You.

And for this reason,

We could not exist.

But, I still love you.

You are part of the story I now tell.

I was I, with you.

And I am I without you as well.