Grandmas Hands: Part Two of my Memories of Grandma

Grandmas Hands

Note: Please read these memories in any order because chances are that I will fill these stories with so many tangents that it will not matter. But if you want to follow some semblance of a time line start with “Grandmas Voice: Part One of Memories of Grandma.” Follow this link… GRANDMAS VOICE … then come back.

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Iʻm at the Honolulu International Airport. Iʻm watching people flow in from the just landed airplane, their faces excited to be in Hawaii on vacation or business. Some look relieved to be home. At the gate, there are kids running circles around their parents. Hopefully they are running enough that they will tire out their little selves and fall asleep on the plane.

“Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,” the littlest one exclaims as he climbs a chair like it is Mauna Kea.

Hilo Airport circa 1982-ish. 

I can vaguely remember a time when I was that age, the world and all its goodies were mine to conquer. I remember playing in an airport much smaller than the one I sit in currently. Hilo Airport (before it was "International")used to have these orange and white blocks for passengers to sit on while they awaited their plane. If you go there some of them are still scattered around. They couldnʻt have been larger that four by four feet but to a toddler these awesome slippery blocks were well… awesome.

I remember playing on them with my cousins, Kahanu and Kehau. Sliding around them on our butts like it was the greatest ride ever. I remember my Grandfather and my Aunties watching on, making sure we didnʻt hurt ourselves or each other. Mostly making sure Kahanu didnʻt sit on me or his sister. 

I remember my Grandmothers hands lifting me up to hold me tight while I squirmed and giggled.  

I remember her hands caring for me when my body was flush with fever. I remember how she would wrap me in ti leaf.

I remember how her hands would lomi my opu when I had a sore stomach.

Grandmas hands were helping, loving, working hands. She has an entire cookbook of food she has made for all of us, written by her beautiful hands.

Aunty Stacie, Kalei, Aunty Lorie and Aunty Kecia... pounding the masa. Making Sweet Bread.

Yesterday morning we pounded the masa and made Portuguese Sweet Bread using one of Grandmas many recipes. Aunty Lorie measured the ingredients like Grandma would… partially from the recipe but mostly by the look and feel of the masa. Kristian pounded the first batch with Auntyʻs help and the second batch was mostly done by Aunty Kecia, Aunty Stacie and Kalei… but we all got our helping hands into the masa. We blessed the masa the way Grandma would and said a prayer over the final product. The bread was ONO. Grandma would have been proud.

A blanket I made for Jason.

I remember Grandmas hands teaching me to crochet blankets. Aunty Lorie said that one of the last things that Grandma said was that she needed blue yarn so that she could make a baby blanket for the little one yet swimming around in my tummy. The nurse had asked about the level of pain she was in one being the lowest and ten being the highest, and she said:

“TEN! TEN!!! But I need BLUE YARN!!! I have to make Piliʻs babies blanket!!!”

Even in pain, all our Grandma could do was give.

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I love you Grandma. That is why you had the foresight to TEACH ME. I will take up my crochet needle and make your blanket for your Great-grandchild.
…

At the hospital… March 13, 2014... that first night I was in Hilo less than two weeks ago… you were sleeping. You didnʻt look like you were in any pain. Just sleeping. We all made a joke about how you were FINALLY SLEEPING! After a lifetime of insomnia you finally got some rest.

I squeezed your hand and let you know that I was there and that I would be back to see you the next day. I asked that you please wake up for us. Jason, my Mom and I left for Hilo Seaside to sleep. 

Day two March 14, 2014: We came the next day and you were still sleeping. The Doctor began to talk nonsense about how we should be prepared to accept that this Might Be It. Aunty Rocki let us know the details. But we were all still optimistic. We knew this could not be it. You had only fallen! A little bump to your butt! 

Aunty Rocki let us know some of the details about the pain treatment that you had been given. I have no words for the pain and helplessness you must have felt. Seeing you like that in the hospital made me feel helpless. But WE ALL pushed through because you were still with us. You were still fighting. WE WOULD FIGHT TOO.

We fought with laughter and love. We talked with you and tried to wake you. I took your hand and placed it on my tummy. Baby had just started kicking on the way over. I wanted you to feel your Great-Grandchild.

I really wanted you to be able to hold your Great-Grandchild.

I left shortly to pick up Jason and get some food. My baby was hungry. 

I knew it would happen. You opened your eyes while I was gone. I got the texts from Jastine and Leimaile. You opened your eyes!

Jason and I rushed back as the nurse was testing your reflexes. She did something that hurt your hand. I wanted to slap that nurse. You closed your eyes. You must have been in such pain Grandma.

You swallowed water and made some noises… I asked if we could give you anything else besides water. I asked Kehau and Aunty Rocki. Kahanu and Kehau agreed with me that you needed something to help you. They were still sending you that god-awful hospital food... so why not Pedialite or gatorade... something. Although internally I was frantic to help I think I asked calmly. I hope I did. I did not want to step on anyones toes... but the doctors said no. That you needed to take in more water and wake up a little more before they tried anything else. I couldnʻt... I wouldnʻt argue. Not with those who have been taking such amazing care of you. But as I looked at my cousins Kehau and Kahanu... I think I lost a little fight inside me.  It wasnʻt resignation, it was the knowledge that if you were going to pull through this... you would have to do it, somehow, on your own.

We could only help with our love. Grandpa sang for you. Leimaile sang for you. We all sang for you. We danced for you. We laughed and cried and shared with you. We tried to keep you up.

Before leaving that night, I held your hand. Your arms were swollen and unmoving. I asked you to please squeeze my hand. You couldnʻt. You didnʻt squeeze my hand, Grandma. Your hands were limp in mine. Still, Your hands were warm and loving and the same as I will always remember them. I gave you a kiss and said "A hui hou. I will be back tomorrow Grandma." I placed your hand once more on my tummy and left.

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So… my plane is boarding and the other passengers are beginning to give the crying pregnant lady strange looks. I will continue to write until my hands can no longer move. What good can come of idle hands. I will put my hands to work to build, love and care for my family. I will use mine to tell stories, like my Grandma. 

I miss my Grandma. I miss holding her hand. Will you please hold the hand of someone you love. Hold it tight and feel their strength and love. Hold them please because one day you will not be able to. 

I want to hold my Grandmas hand again. But I canʻt. I want to giggle like that toddler in the airport and take my Grandmothers hand as she smiles down at me. But that time has passed. I can only believe that her spirit guides me and holds me tight. I can hold her memory close in my mind and on this page. Even though I canʻt hold her hand, I can always remember what those hands taught me.

Much love and aloha,

Happy Nathaniel

PS… Here is a recipe that my Grandmother shared straight from the pages of her first cookbook in 1999. I edited it a bit for spelling but I did not mess with the recipe. It is her mothers recipe for Portuguese Sweet Bread. Make it with your family. 

GRANDMAʻS SWEETBREAD

4 pkg yeast
3 c. water
5 tbsp. sugar
1 sm. mashed potato (or grated, up to you)

Mix in a covered 2 qt. pot until mixture rises.

10 eggs - beaten
5 lbs. flour
3 c. sugar
2 tbsp. salt
3 blocks butter
1 handful Crisco (yes, handful, thatʻs how she did it)
1 can Carnation milk and water to make 2 quarts of liquid.

Mix flour, salt, sugar, butter, Crisco, eggs and yeast mixture in a very large bowl. Add milk/water mixture a little at a time when kneading dough. Knead for about 15-20 minutes. Sprinkle a little flour and cover. Let rise for 2 hours. Pour dough into greased loaf pans. Let rise for 1 1/2 hours. Brush tops with milk before baking. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Makes about 6 loaves.

Note: There are a few things missing from the directions of this recipe. There are also a few things that are different in other versions of this SAME recipe. But... THIS is how she wrote it in her first book... so this is how I will share it. I will make this recipe one day on my own, with the hands that my Grandma helped to shape. Until then... 

Next blog: Grandmas Smile: Part three of my Memories of Grandma.