Christmas Morning from Maui, Installment 4

Gledileg Jol and Mele Kalikimaka. I'm still a bit sleepy eyed, yet sitting with a full tummy as my Santa hoosbondi just made us omelettes with avocado, toast and stout coffee. What a nice Christmas present. We ate slowly and quietly out on the lanai, listening to the breaking waves and watching the sun creep across the sea toward us. I can see how some people actually might not like being this close to the water -- it is loud and you can feel the power of the ocean coming right at you. I remember hearing once that my Mother was not fond of the noise and the energy of the waves when they lived at Ft. Ord, CA in the 60's. She would have been in her 40's with two children under 10 -- I wonder what she felt about her life in general at that time? What I would give to have her blogs from her travels, her thoughts, her frustations and joys. I miss my Mom. I loved her dearly.

My neice and nephew, his wife and their children, my sister and all their associated family are together in Northern California this holiday. My in-laws and their relatives are in Iceland. Ingi's girls and our grandchildren are in Vancouver, WA. His sister Beta and her husband Reed and one of their visiting sets of children and their grandchild are in Albany, OR. Beta and Reed's son and his wife are in Michigan. Ingi's two brothers and their families are in SoCal. My (last, dear) Aunt Ruthie is in Colorado. We are scattered far and wide. What binds us? Blood? Shared history? Culture? Surely it's not primarily geography, or our associations would have long ago been lost. It's easy to know what makes us family but harder to know what keeps us family. I have no biological children and my parents have both passed on. Ingi called me an orphan yesterday, sad that I did not have a long list of people to call on Christmas. Yet I do not feel sad or orphanish. I feel deep connections to all of my friends and family, a deep love of my animals, a deep desire to care for and comfort all children, all flora and fauna, all living things. There certainly have been times when I've felt friendless or family-starved, but it's been many years since those feelings have haunted me. For whatever reasons, whether they be years of therapy or study of spiritual material or experience or just aging, I have come to see that we are never alone. Along that line, there are some really neat Hawaiian paintings in the fine art galleries here in Lahaina. I don't know the artist, but will make sure to note it during my next visit. They depict scenes of everyday life -- a boy tossing a fishing net, a man in a outrigger canoe rowing heartily against an angry sea, a young girl making leis. Standing around each of these people are the faint outlines of ancestors, showing how to toss the net, rowing along with the kane, sewing with the wahine. I'm not usually fond of fantasy paintings, but these move me deeply. Especially the one of the canoe rower. He is seated in the middle of the canoe, bent over and exhausted. In front of him and behind him are the ghosts of his ancestors, taking over battling the waves as he rests. We are all carried sometimes. We are guided and held and supported, even when we don't know it or feel it. This knowledge sustains me. I think that's why I'm so moved by these paintings -- they represent a truth of our human experience. Perhaps this is also why I feel so akin to the Hawaiian culture -- in their hearts we are all ohana, all family.

Our Christmas Eve service last nite was a magical moment. We ended up at the Church of the Holy Innocents, which is an Episcopal Church that has been serving the Lahaina community since 1862. It was filled with red poinsettias and white candles, red protea and koa wood pews. The side walls were opened up to the air and the ceiling fans created a gentle breeze. People came in aloha shirts and muumuu's, wearing flower leis and sandals. The choir wore silver leis which sparkeled as they walked down the isle and as they sang. The Rector, Bill Albinger, reminded me a bit of Ira Rosenbaum, my Aunt Ruthie's dear friend from their days in New York. Ira would be more inclined to be a rabbi than an Episcopalian priest, but the warmth and welcoming attitude and even the physical presence of Bill brought Ira to my mind. As in most Episcopalian churches there is a lot of congregational response, and it was neat to be drawn up into the service in this way. The Rector wore robes of finery, a beautiful plumeria lei along with his vestments, and flip flops on his feet. He called the children up front to talk to briefly about the Christmas story and then gave them crayons and paper to use to color on as he was giving the sermon. It was all very, very special and sweet. Some of the service was said or sung in Hawaiian, and I almost swooned. There was one particular Hawaiian family that looked like they could pose for the Maui tourism poster -- handsome and beautiful, dark and tall. It made me remember another thing Pu told us on our Hana tour. Although the US government does not recognize any of the living Hawaiian Monarchy, the Hawaiian people know who they are. I think perhaps we churched with Royalty last nite. Oh, and another Christmas miracle: A man from Alaska just showed up to the church the day before the service. He is vacationing on Maui and offered to play the trumpet during the festivities. And yowzer did he play the trumpet! Sounded like the horns of angels. We were truly blessed. Of course I cried throughout the evening -- it was just so touching and tender. As the master poet Rumi wrote -- when one is awake, one's eye's are always wet. Tears of gratitude are easy to shed.

Ingi and I opened our small presents to each other last nite. He gave me a lovely necklace from an Icelandic jeweler, a silver and gold peace dove. I love it. We bought books for each other too -- What the Dog Saw by Malcom Gladwell for Ingi and Cowboy and Wills by Monica Holloway for me. We also opened our 2009 Icelandic Christmas spoon from Ingi's parents. I adore our spoon collection. This year's design is drenched in kismet as the handle is decorated with poinsettias. Our Christmas spoon from Iceland is filled with Hawaiian flowers. Go figure. Thank you Gunna and Torfi.

I took a 40 minute walk up the road yesterday. My hair is now three shades lighter after just that short time in the Maui sun. I'm not one to lay about the pool to tan, but I'm thinking now I might actually get some "color" through just walking about or being in the water. If I can avoid burning, I'll be glad. I have that Nordic skin that can actually brown up nicely if I don't burn first. Wish me luck.