When my Dad turned 18, he received a letter from the President of the United States. It looked similar to thousands of others that landed in US mailboxes. This was anything but junk mail. He knew it was coming but hoped his name and address would be lost in the system. He’d already met the girl of his dreams and they had big plans together. On the porch of my maternal grandmother’s big white house in Georgetown, they promised to wait for each other. They also agreed to write every Friday. On the back of each envelope, they both wrote DDDD (it’s a secret-sorry) and the chronological letter number in case one got lost in transit to/from Pusan, South Korea.
Days later, standing at the gate, everyone (including #MyMom) said goodbye to their big brother, cousin, son, and best friend. My Dad was the oldest of three children. Sending off this son to war was a major family development. Just before heading down the jet way, my paternal grandfather Charlie pulled my Dad aside and shared these parting words: “Come back soon and take advantage of every opportunity offered to you”.
Today, on earth’s most beautiful black sand beach (in photo above) he reiterated those words to my oldest sister Kathy and I. Some things take time to make total sense. Although I may be a slow learner, I can now see how Charlie’s words (70+ years ago) sculpted the spirit of three generations. My goal is to pass a similar way finder to our 15 year old Daniela and make it an even four.
I’m actually not supposed to be on this Hawaiian holiday. My younger sister Annie, a veteran medical worker, wasn’t able to make the travel details work based on current events. I had doubts about a Trans Pacific crossing for all those same reasons. At nearly 90, my Dad isn’t done moving around the world and needs a travel mate. After a few important affirmations from those whom I have significant obligations, I was able to commit. Fortunately, my sisters (I have a bunch) had most of the planning complete including the multiple steps to be compliant with The Safe Travel State of Hawaii protocols. One aspect of this plan that only occurred to me once we barreled down the really long runway at SeaTac: My Dad had never questioned if this trip was possible. For him, he was living the infamous words of Charlie. Once my sister Kathy made a reservation (months earlier) for a lovely two bedroom, top floor condo facing the 4th green, he began imagining the mornings and evenings on the wrap around lanai.
Not one to squander valuable daylight, my uber fit and retired brother in law Art (in photo above) has the following day’s itinerary set before the lights go out. He acknowledges his houseguests operate at his pace half. He also loves my Dad as much as any blood ever has. Coffee at dawn, in the car before 8, I believe his unspoken mission is to be the first feet on the beach. Prior to leaving on this adventure, both Kathy and Art sent me numerous reminders I was to pack a snorkel and fins. Art isn’t one to just watch the waves. The prospect of our first open ocean adventure had me a little nervous. That snorkel and fin set in my bag had been drying out for at least a decade. We set up our beachchairs, got my Dad situated and as I headed for the water, a yellow EMS helicopter flying less than 100 off shore and very close to the water was obviously there for a reason. With the side door ajar, the uniformed officer was using the two handed motion to get out of the water. About 100 yards from shore, a shark was feeding off the carcass of a small whale. Life Guards on four wheelers quickly closed the beach for the day. I’m not one to easily clear my mind about anything including this scene each time I followed Art into the ocean. I was being offered an opportunity. What I saw in the days that followed was a remarkable rainbow of fish, eel, urchin, and fortunately nothing looking to have me for breakfast.
This Hawaiian time with my Dad was a giant gift. His spirit of life and continued gratitude for every day he had with my Mom remind me how much love is in him. It’s not a feeling words can describe other than feeling super fortunate to be a member of this tribe.
On our long flight home in row 38, he reiterated how much he loved being in business together and we shared our favorite highlights including what success and failure felt like. We also talked about how he’s playing with house money, being well passed the days Dr. T gave him, post a seven way by pass a decade ago.
#MyAwesomeDad reminds me that the only day that matters is the one you’re living in.
Charlie’s words just keep on delivering the goods. Thanks for the memories Dad.