So far we have seen: a humpback whale and her calf; a sea turtle (Mom didn’t see it, I did, in the water, up close); many colourful fish and coral, but many fewer than we would have twenty years ago; a white-bearded tanned preacher-man hollering bible quotations on Front Street in Lahaina near the Banyan tree; people surfing in the waves beside the highway; churches made of coral; buildings and fences made of lava rock; ginger blossoms; millions of palm trees; myna birds; egrets; a stand selling fresh coconuts and coconut water (we stopped and bought one. the woman at the stand was from Rio, Brazil and climbs trees for coconuts all over the Island and makes something from every part of their harvest); children flinging themselves into the waves; children skipping rope and hula hoops in the playground of the school; ukulele players; white sand; black sand; red sand; sunsets; volcanos; craters; bamboo of many hues; rainbow eucalyptus; birds of paradise growing wild; tanned people; burned people.
Mom gets tired fast, but she’s a trooper and goes with me everywhere. Except yesterday afternoon when she went to sit by the pool to read and watch the children splash around. I made her a smoothie out of coconut water, papaya and pineapple and took off to go swimming in the ocean for a couple of hours. We are taking good care of each other. She tells stories of the Farm and the people and events she remembers from childhood. Asthma and cornhusk dolls and working at the Farm and babysitting for the Waddells and Joan Hagen coming over to wash Mom’s floors every Friday when Mom was pregnant with Scott and not supposed to exert herself and … all these stories to a backdrop of bird song and fragrance and the sound of the ocean on one side and the highway on the other.
We have two more days here.
We are seizing them.