June 2013

J-Just soaking in the sun

U-Up to something

N-No alarm

E-Expecting longer days

There’s something about June. Even in rainy Hilo I am still expectant of the morning music of the birds and early riser drivers that take place of the annoying and blatant siren alarm that I used to wake up to before work.

I am not held captive to the am shenanigans of groaning waking children and last-minute breakfast gobblers and the mass hunt for homework, a favorite headband, a pair of socks or shin guards and of course, car keys. …or perhaps these games are reserved for a different time of day…like before ballet,soccer practice, summer camp, or lessons.

Not sure if it’s the early rising of the sun and the late setting of the sun or simply because I have no agenda in June since I am off on summer break but there is something about June that makes life so much more carefree. Don’t get me wrong but I still do have my off days, but not as much compared to the other seasons. Although in Hawai’i we don’t get to fully experience the different change of seasons but there is a significant change in temperature and the length of the days. Sometimes you can make a trip around the island in one day and take in the different weather types from different areas.

Rainy Kaumana…but then you take a 15 minute drive down to Keaukaha and you’re greeted by an open blue sky at Richardson ocean beach park. Take in the sweltering heat and cool off in the bone chilling waves. As you sunbathe on the black sand, someone in Volcano is wrapped up in a sweater, scarf, jeans and boots enjoying the peace and calm ambience of Bird Park trail. Drive south and enjoy viewing the turtles sunning in the fine jet black sand at Punalu’u Beach Park. Drive over to Kona and enjoy the heat wave in a breezy summer cover up and strip to your bikini before hitting the tepid breaking waves at Honokohau Harbor. After a brief session head home and stop over in Waimea, put on a jean jacket and feel the town breeze nip at your salty sun-kissed legs. Swiftly enter the town center and have dinner at Village Burger Waimea to satisfy the surfer’s hunger pangs. Then back to muggy drizzly Hilo…wash away and shower off and head off to a distant land of peace to reboot for the next day’s happenings!

With the sun setting later in the day, I feel like there is much more time to be enjoyed and that it shouldn’t be wasted. Sometimes I feel like relaxing is a waste of time but that is not so. My relaxing time is a time I value the most because it’s a time that I can regroup with friends, my family and of course God. My time with The Lord is important for me so that I can prepare my heart for the things of the day that I do not know of. I can ask him to prepare my heart to respond in a way that is pleasing to Him. Being attentive to my need to unwind allows me to quietly reflect on a situation gone awry and set myself up to face it instead of run from it. By letting God have control of my burdens it is easy to let go and start from a clean slate. At the end of the day, The Lord is there to receive my thanks and praises for all that I’ve accomplished and received. He is there to listen to my prayer requests and my pleas for forgiveness.

Summertime. I welcome these long days. Where one, two, three loads of clothes can be expected to dry outside on the clothes line in a day.

Summertime. When passing showers don’t mean a thing to the swinging clothes flapping away in the wind because before you know it, the clouds are rolling by with blue skies arriving from the horizon.

Summertime. When the lilikoi vine sends forth green oval ornaments and in due time drop to the ground atop the glistening grass…like extra jumbo yellow dyed Easter eggs waiting to be found. Cook some juice and freeze into ice cakes😊.

Summertime. When the window of Malino’s smile is shut. She sports a newly permanent pair of square pearly whites growing crooked from pacifying on her tasty ring and middle finger indented by the sharp newcomers.

Summertime. Means a little more cuddle time with Casey like two birds atop the electric cable right outside the living room window leaning on each other. No chirping. Just leaning on each other. Only to be whisked away by the requests of little chicks wanting breakfast or the many buzzes and vibrations of a cell phone or an old school-house ring.

Summertime. When the stampede of two pairs of feet are heard on the floorboards as I am peacefully folding mounds of laundry in the downstairs laundry area.

Summertime. When the faint laughter and chuckles and whispers are heard beneath living room forts made out of comforters and sheets.

Summertime. When two little ones are nowhere to be found until the last resort is to open a cluttered dark closet. Open the door and find two pairs of eyes staring wide and then squint from the bright light that disturbs their imaginary spaces and places.

Summertime. When the boredom of a little boy…no….(he is now a preteener) is satisfied with an annoying bleep of the PC being switched on…the welcoming chime of a screen booted up and ready to devour the boredom of his soul. Click click clicking away at the opponents that attempt to consume his online character.

Summertime. Where the children grow in skill in their passionate hobbies in summer season camps and lessons.

Summertime. When the house is filled with giggles and early morning conversations from sleepovers and visits from friends throughout the week.

Summertime. When lovers retreat and elope to a sunny sandy shoreline to pronounce their commitment to each other before the setting sun. Witnesses hoping for a life of eternal love and supporting them in every promise and vow in agreement with God’s great plan.

Summertime. When an impromptu dinner date on a week night and a 45minute trip to Volcano is a “yes of course!” Sitting side by side with my best friend, lavishing in each others presence, I sipping on Merlot and he a blended Okolehau Rum while stealing glimpses of the glowing crater from The Volcano House.

Summertime. When a favorite bottle of wine paired with fruit, crackers, brie cheese and a caprese salad is shared with long time friends. Catching up and relaxing beneath the clear blue sky well into the twilight of the day.

Summertime. When play dates are planned and mommies develop bonds and relationships to ease the loneliness of parenting. Sharing in our weaknesses and strengths and anxieties and hopes for the future of our growing children.

Summertime. When time is spent scrolling and perusing social networks to reconnect with old friends. Like a post, comment a post, ignore a post, wish someone a happy birthday, meditate in prayer for my friends and family around the globe. So many ways to stay connected in this world.

Summertime. A time to organize my house and my thoughts. A time to let go of outgrown clothes and shoes to make room for more. A time to part with useless baggage and clutter. Many useless things in a box become useful at the local Goodwill.

Summertime. A time to heal a broken heart from a painful loss.

Summertime. When I now see the teenager at eye level. The teenager whom I do not recognize from across the hallway. A stranger is in my house! Where is the little girl that I used to know.

Summertime. When a pair of heads can see over a counter and a sink. Up on tiptoes barely reaching the water faucet. Not tall enough to turn it on yet but soon enough tall enough!

Summertime. When my preteen escapes our lair to adventures spent with friends. Returning with a mumbling 2 word report of his day. Lanky, shoulders slumped and almost looking eye to eye.

Summertime. When bold purple orchids bloom in sprays against a natural green and brown backdrop of Hapu’u stumps and ferns.

Summertime. When the clusters of puakenikeni is wafted in the twilight breeze reminding me of the night-blooming jasmine from my childhood home. Different but with the same sweetness.

Summertime. A time to welcome a reunited friendship and catch up on changes, successes, and lost dreams. Floating a top the nostalgia that creeps into our hearts. But alas! The present moment must overcome and we look forward to the memory of this reunion.

Aaaah! Summer. Welcome back! I’ve missed you! Please don’t leave so soon!

Psalm46:10 Be still and know that I am God
In every season, God is their to still my anxious heart in a hurried and busy life. When I stop complaining, when I stop worrying, when I suddenly stop myself from yelling at my children, when my grunts and moans turn to hums of melodies, I know it is He who is in my heart. His undeserved grace is a lifesaver every time!

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A Man of Faith
Sakada

June 11th Kamehameha Day. It’s so easy to remember my dad’s birthday since it’s on the same day as a state holiday. The same day the state is honoring King Kamehameha is the same day that I honor my dad.
The reason why I titled this Man of Faith is because he was a man of faith. In Hebrews11:1 it says: “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” He left his country the Philippines. He left his family. He left everything behind, got on board a ship in search of a better life in Hawai’i. He was a Sakada (a Filipino who was imported by the Hawaiian Sugar Plantation). He worked tirelessly in hard labor for very little money. He met my mom, a young picture bride in her 20s, and had saved enough to return to the Philippines to marry her and bring her back to Hawai’i. And they started a family. She had three consecutive children and I was born 8 years after my sister. My siblings were born in Hakalau and I was born in Hilo. We resided in a Puna subdivision called Ainaloa. We experienced many hardships growing up. My dad was in his early 70s when I was born so he was aging but he was healthy. My mom on the other hand was battling with mental health issues and she still is to this very day. And that is why I call my father a Man of Faith. Despite the struggles that he encountered with my mom’s illness, he still stayed where he was. He still loved my mom. Their marriage persevered. I’m not sure if he ever fully understood her illness but to me, letting her come back everytime she was in and out of treatment showed me that he still had faith in her and he did the best that he could despite the circumstances.
I used to follow my dad around the lava yard behind our house as he meticulously pulled and scraped each and every weed out of the lava cracks. He had a green thumb and there was all kinds of exotic fruit trees and vegetables growing in our yard. I have yet to find his green thumb in my thumb. And he not only had a green thumb but he knew how to cook good authentic Filipino food. From garden to table. But when my mom wasn’t there, he would play with me. He’d push me on the swing that he built with a wooden plank with 4 holes drilled on each corner. He weaved the rope through the holes and hung it securely around the paper tree branch. I remember my dad tying one end of a jump rope to a desk leg in our living room and he would turn that rope whenever I asked him to. It was fun playing with my dad!
In conclusion, I look up to my dad by how he just traveled far and worked hard for so little to give me this life that I have now. I and my siblings are successful in where we are right now. And we can thank our dad for that. Our dad. A man of faith.

This blog post is in memory of my late father: Macario Baltazar Sabado
(June 11, 1903-May 28, 1998)

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June Photos

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Copyright 2013 Myra Halpern
All Rights Reserved

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