When I went for my morning walk, I still turned right out of the driveway rather than left, not being sure that Brian and Amanda were back from Maui. I saw this amazing rainbow.
We get a lot of rainbows here in Hawaii. Until recently, it was the icon on the license plates. I had no idea why it was there until the volcano at Kilauea finally stopped spouting its fumes and putting an end to the vog, which obscured the rainbows on the Big Island. I have seen double and even triple rainbows. When I was on Oahu, I saw rainbows low in the sky, an overlay over the mountain actually coloring it. I didn’t even know that was possible. But this rainbow was still something I had never seen before. It was 1/3 of a rainbow, rising up out of the water, slicing up through a cloud, - and just ending.
When I got home from my walk, I did my morning routine and left for Bikram. I started pressing on the outside edge of my feet in bending postures. Doing so activates different muscles. I also worked on stretching my pec muscles to open my shoulders.
Shivani and I discussed differences in parenting ideas from when I was a child to now. It was assumed that children could recover from anything. Shivani’s grandmother, Mike’s mother, once said she couldn’t bear it if anyone spoke to her how she talked to them and thought nothing about changing. Maybe it was a generational thing. She thought this was just who she was, and changing in any way was not a possibility. However, Christianity and Buddhism both hold the concept of behavioral changes in their theology. The idea is not new.
Shivani spoke about how millennials change constantly. But they don’t change for the sake of becoming better or more moral people. They are looking only for personal satisfaction and want it instantly. They assume that the world should do everything their way. Really? They leave one unsatisfactory situation for another, expecting that they will find the promised environment where they will be appreciated for whatever they do. Apparently, this generation received praise for being toilet trained by the time they were 10. Not much else was expected. All criticism was removed from the curriculum. Everything was good. I can see emphasizing what is right in someone’s work. If someone spells was as wes, you could say you got the first and the last letters correctly, but not telling someone it was perfect the way it was to start out with. It wasn’t.
While we talked, Shivani did water painting. It’s fun watching her develop the picture. She does it for relaxation. I commented that I hadn’t known about this hobby of hers. She said she’s not that good; there was no point in telling anyone. But for me, it was the new knowledge about her and how she spent her time. The image of her peacefully painting will stay with for a long, long time.
Shivani helped me sort through the Christmas stuff in the closet in my study. Mike loved decorating for Christmas. I liked helping him take everything down, but found putting the decorations up depressing. I have no idea why. He had recently bought two large garlands to hang over the bay window. They took up a lot of space in the closet. They had to go. Shivani carried them out to the car. I kept everything I had seen for more than one year. There were things in there I had never seen. There was a revolving clear plastic winter display which played music from The Nutcracker, and a Styrofoam snowman, neither I had ever seen before.
I did some work on the blog, and then we all did some gardening on the back lanai. It winds up the Shivani loves gardening. Well, do I ever have a garden for her to run free in. Shivani picking up fallen palm fronds, Sidney went in and out of the sliding bedroom door, and I continued working on trimming the Bougainville.
After I did that dirty work, I showered and did MELT for my feet and my hands. I am skipping the Tiger Tail. My hands feel so much better for doing MELT every day. This is truly a fantastic process for repairing damage from repetitive actions.
Next, we went to Home Depot to pick up two new pretty pots and soil for Shivani to repot the two plants Mike bought the Christmas before he died. Before we unloaded, we went next door to take up Ronen on his offer of a tour of his outdoor plantings and hothouses on his commercial farm. This neighborhood is zoned for agriculture. Before he and his wife moved in, that property was a total mess. Now, everything is in neat rows of beautiful growing things in different colors. Shivani asked him if there were many farms like his on the island. The answer was no. Most farms are mono-crops, planting only coffee or only mac nuts. His farm has a great variety of eatable plants. He gave us some marigold leaves to taste. Apparently, the farm is a lot of work.
Besides the eatable plants, they have two goats and about a dozen chickens. They have the goats because a friend found an abandoned baby goat and knew that Ronen’s wife would take it in. Elizabeth is a sucker for animals in need. They bought a second one to keep the first company. They can’t release them into the wild because these animals think they are dogs and wouldn’t be prepared to run like hell when approached by a hunting dog.
When we got back to the house. I unpacked the trunk of garden stuff, did some work on the blog, and took a nap.
We went to the Otech beach when I got up. It has a lagoon area that is knee-deep at its furthest point. Good for kids. Sidney had no interest. We walked over to the other beach area for Shivani to swim in while I watched Sidney. Now how do I describe this? Potentially dangerous is a good start. It’s a deep crevice between high lava rocks walls, but the water isn’t very deep. I’d say at the highest side is about five feet above the water. The pool itself never gets very deep.
The waves come to shore and rush down the sluice. This means the water rushes in and pushes you toward shore and then rushes out, pulling you toward the ocean. Mike and I loved swimming there. We kept saying it was like a mountain stream to discover that freshwater did feed that particular sluice from the mountainside. The water was colder and crisper, as only freshwater can be. I haven’t been able to swim there for a while because of my buoyancy problem. I have no control over my body as the water rushes in and out. I feel like a piece of flotsam. Maybe if I wore weights, I could manage it. Ah, I forgot to mention you have to climb over lava to get into the pool, and then it is filled with large rocks you have to navigate around. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it is just wonderful.
To boot, the lava pool is right under the takeoff flight path. This makes it even better, not worse. I know when we took off, we would note when we were going over the pool. We felt so connected to this island. We love living in Hawaii; well, Mike did, and I still do.
When we came home, we finished off some leftovers. Then I watched TV and cataloged books.
I walked Elsa before going to bed, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Good night, Elsa, Goodnight, Mike.
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Musings: I’m putting this separately so those who are not interested can choose not to read it.
Another thought confirmation by Yvette’s recommendation, “happiness is an inside job.”
“The survivors of a broken relationship – even when the break is ‘for the best’- are surprised to find themselves in a world that is suddenly different, and the mind needs to learn to make its way in it.”
This is how I feel. I am adjusting to a new and unfamiliar environment, much as I had to adapt to a new and different situation when we moved here 5 years ago. There is always an attachment to the familiar and an adjustment when we lose it, no matter how minor or major.
I have mentioned before that I have been preparing for a time when I would have to live without Mike since I met him. It wasn’t that I distrusted him. Quite to the contrary, I trusted him completely. Besides his clear and obvious love for me, he is a man who acknowledged commitments. But, as we well know, there’s life- and death. It was death that took my father from me, my mom and sister. He was also a man who would only break his commitment to his family through death itself, unless very desperate. That loss set me up to anticipate the possibility of the death of those I love. If Mike was late, I would don my widow’s weeds. It was a running joke that I was always planning his funeral. He would say, “She’s planning to bury me again.” He said it in the hospital. He had promised me that we would die at the same time in our 90s. “Liar, liar, pants on fire.” I never took his promise seriously, and always anticipated that I would have to live out my life without him. I have been grieving for 45 years. I have more than done an appropriate amount of grieving.
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