Thursday, April 17, 2014

"The Culturally Offensive Satirist" or "Another Stupid Racist Bitch"

Aloha My Friends and Family. This blog is a departure from my latest ventures down memory lane. This is more about current events and one woman's attempt... no... this is CNNʻs attempt at what they call humor and satire. I couldnʻt decide on the title so I used two.

Go HERE for the full video from CNN.

Or just click below...



From RYOT.com
"Did CNN just do something super racist? From the looks of it, yeah, albeit unintentionally.Complaints have been made to the network in regards to a story hosted by reporter Jeanne Moos. In it, she discusses Prince William and Kate Middleton’s visit to New Zealand — and the traditional Maori welcome they received.A lot of people are unhappy with the report, in which Moos calls a Maori warrior’s traditional dress an unfit way of meeting the “future king and queen.”The video is tastelessly laced with Maori sound effects, and even refers to a past segment in which a traditional dance was called a cross between a chippendales lap dance and the mating dance of an Emu.Many people are saying Moos’ comments were a sign of “disrespectful and ill-bred ‘journalism.’” Watch the video and decide for yourself how disrespectful it is:
Read more at http://www.ryot.org/video-did-cnn-just-something-super-racist/646053#JXHmo7vpksE7cGGB.99"
Hmm... Iʻd have to seriously disagree with the first statement... I think there is serious INTENT in Jeanne Moos brand of Journalism. Her intent is to slander and disrespect an entire culture by not only making fun of it but also saying it is "unfit" for the likes of the Royal Family. Is it unfit because it is culturally different than that of MOOS Anglocentric worldview?

You do notice that in her video it is the American leaders that dance like Emus... not the English.

From www.heavy.com: 
"The video starts out about Prince George on his first trip abroad to New Zealand with parents Prince William and Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, but quickly devolves into a commentary piece on how "weird" cultures are outside the Anglosphere.
Get it together, CNN."

From Huffington Post: 
"Oh dear, CNN. Just: Oh dear.This may be the most offensive American coverage of events in another country since CBS used Toto's 'Africa' for Nelson Mandela's memorial coverage.Just click play to see CNN reporter Jeanne Moos marvel - in a bemused-slash-borderline-racist sort of way - at the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge's recent encounter with Maori warriors and leaders in New Zealand.From traditional Maori warrior dress to traditional Maori greetings - with a few other non-American countries' traditions chucked in for good measure - prepare to be aghast. Not at the traditions, but at CNN's coverage of them."
The Independent also has a few words to say about the actions of Jeanne Moos. Click HERE for that article.
The writers at the Independent, RYOT, Heavy and Huffington put it lightly. When the cultures of the English and Maori are shown... I SEE is two very different cultures and leaders act with amazing dignity and itʻs really a tribute to both societies. All I HEAR is an IGNORANT, ANGLOCENTRIC CNN reporter named Jeanne Moos mock and belittle the cultural practices of an ENTIRE NATION. She puts down and degrades the dress and the Haka that the Maori people perform.  This is a performance of strength, honor and welcome befitting a King.

She even slides a few more non-American cultures into her disgusting attempt at satire just to get her point across. (I say American because while this story is of the British Royal Family and their travels to New Zealand... Jeanne Moos is American) What was her point? Satire and Humor at the expense of a non-American culture.

My favorite part is when she sticks her uncultured, grotesque and painted face into the camera. She is so ignorant as to make fun of the "rubbing noses" as she puts it, that Prince William and the Duchess do with some Maori elders. The Hawaiian People, my people, are family to the Maori Nation. We have similar cultural practices. In Hawaii that exchange is called the "Ha" or "Breath of Life". That is a traditional way of greeting... by sharing your LIFE Force. 

Do you know the term "Haole"? Do you know what that means... "NO BREATH" "NO LIFE". 

This woman has no soul. No life. She is the epitome of "Haole".

After many "dislikes" and even a Change.org petition for an apology that reached more than 25,000 signatures, CNN has since forced her to "apologize"... and this was her lame, wormy, lifeless apology, "...I do humour and satire, and I am truly sorry if the tone of my story offended anyone,” 

It was not only your tone, CNN and MOOS, but also your content and blatant lack of respect for any and all cultures that you do not understand. Keep your soulless reporting and careless, culture less dead heart in stories you excel at. Stick to cats jumping out of windows, Pot vending machines and Social Mediaʻs blood moon selfie craze, MOOS.

I do realize that some of you reading this maybe shaking your heads thinking that I am being entirely too sensitive. If you are one of these people then you can go away. You can watch the movies of old where white actors wore black face, where the "Natives" are portrayed as ignorants... You can side with the likes of people like Jeanne Moos and whatever CNN producers green lighted this segment. They are just trying to make people laugh, right? My culture and the cultures of non-anglosaxon people have been HISTORICALLY trashed and put down, whether in the name of science, politics or just for a laugh... A little humor and satire at the expense of a beautiful, vibrant culture.

CNN and Jeanne Moos thought this was going to be a funny one. Iʻm not laughing. Millions of degraded "Native" peoples along the ages have dealt with this stupidity over and over again. Iʻm tired of laughing meekly and turning a blind eye. 

Eyes wide open, not laughing and Furiously yours,

Happy Nathaniel


Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Grandmaʻs House: The Sixth and not so Final Part in my Memories of Grandma.

It has officially been a month and a day. My Grandma is not dead.





Remembering her in state was just plain wrong. Even as the sorrow and pain washed through me as I looked down at her I could not help but think that she should not be in there. She should not be lying there with that angelic smile on her face in that fluffy white casket surrounded by red roses and red lehua and the fragrance of maile wafting from the dozens of lei brought by friends and loved ones.

That wasnʻt my Grandma. I couldnʻt touch her. I didnʻt touch her. I wanted to remember her as that soft, warm pillow of comfort I could always call, always turn to. I didnʻt want to remember her in that casket. That wasnʻt my Grandma. 

Our Grandma.

Damn Facebook. My face is swollen and itʻs a good thing I can type with out looking at the keys to the screen because I canʻt see either. I just watched the footage of all us Grandkids singing “A Maile Lei for Your Hair” at Homelani. It was beautiful. When else will you get us all to sing. But I still refuse! I refuse to believe that my Grandma was in that casket. I canʻt believe it still. 

I could pretend the entire celebration was for someone else. But then wouldnʻt that cheapen the entire thing. That was, by far, the most beautiful celebration of life that I have ever been a part of. Our family did an amazing job. We created floral arrangements, photo collages, a slide show and music and dance. We laughed and cried… Together. To say that we did all of that for a stranger would be wrong of me. But then I would have to admit…

Right now it is 12:19 PM on a stormy, wet, over cast day on the New Jersey Shore. Iʻm looking out at the water wishing that I could remember and forget all at once. I want to remember my Grandma as she should always be remembered… Vital. Alive. Fighting. I want to forget the beautiful images of a month ago. I want to forget the amazing funeral that was my Grandmothers… because I canʻt think of her that way. I canʻt admit that pain. 

So… no admissions here. Just words. I didnʻt think to write anything for awhile. I didnʻt want to relive anything… but since the memories are already flowing… I should get this blog started. 

So it starts…



Grandmas House

This blog will not be about that house that everyone knows on Lanikaula St. This is more about what that house stands for. That house is EVERYONEʻS HOME. That is the first home I remember. It is the first address and phone number I memorized. It is the home I have returned to time and time again throughout my life. In my early childhood I grew up there with my cousins. It was the place I would go back to over the course of growing up. The doors were always open. In my young adulthood I lived there during my formidable college years.

That house is home.

It was there that my Family got together after that heart-slashing morning of March 15th. After they wheeled my Grandmother out of the room…

So… I could talk about the bottles of crown royal that we all went through. I could post a picture of all the beer bottles that littered the front yard. Grandma would have been furious… if she hadnʻt been drunk on Crown Royal as well… “Frikken Keedz!”

….

Note: I just thought of something. Here I am bawling me eyes out and wanting to hit something because I am just so stupid angry still… BUT HOW DO YOU THINK GRANDMA FEELS?!?! “Holy Shit!”… HAHAHAHAH YOU KNOW she took one look at God and Jesus and the Angels and whatever and said… “YOU HOLY SHITS!” YOU KNOW Uncle Dicky and Aunty Bernie (My Grandmas bro and sis) had to HOLD HER DOWN! 

HOLY SHITS!!!! That just made me feel better. She didnʻt go down with out a fight here and you KNOW DAMN WELL SHE TOOK THE FIGHT UP THERE! With a heavenly supply of Crown Royal, of course.


It was in the Hours and Days that followed that the celebration for Our Grandmother took shape. The first… Picking ʻopala to make wreaths… something grandma love to make and love to receive. This was predominately Kila and Jannaʻs project. Everyone was invited to make one. And we spent an entire day doing so. This kept our hands busy and our minds creative. Itʻs something Grandma would have done. Thank you to Chelsea and everyone who were the masterminds behind this creative spark. These wreathes were hung up on a beautiful yellow hawaiian print board, framed with Ti-Leaf. This beautiful display was made by Chelsea. These wreathes were placed on the casket at Homelani. These wreathes signified our diligence and creativity… two things we learned from Grandma. 






I was there when Kaeo did the mock up for the Ti-Leaf Kahili that was placed so royally at each side of Grandma. And that heart arrangement... It was a stroke of Creative Hawaiian Genius. Thank you Kaeo. Thank you for letting me help you and everyone put those together. They were beautiful.

Aunty Rocki began to think up a menu and mentioned Portuguese Bean Soup. So Aunty Lorie decided to make sweet bread when she was back in Oahu. Anyone who was in Oahu and could make it… got to help make, bless and bake the sweet bread that was served. Thank you to Aunty Lorie for carrying on this tradition. 





As soon as a slide show was discussed at the Funeral Home it was immediately decided that Kristian would be perfect. Her talents proved more that amazing. The slide show she provided was filled with love, tears and remembrance. Thank you Kristian.


Aunty Rocki, Kehau and Kahanu… I love you and I am Thanking you together because I know you donʻt like to be singled out. You like to be in the background… always supporting. Thank you ALL for EVERYTHING. Food prep, hugs, DA BIG picture board, hugs, programs, hugs, farts (Kahanu) and hugs. Thank you for supporting each other and our family. You are Awesome.

“A Maile Lei for Your Hair.”… A song that reminded Grandma of her love for her little sister, Aunty Bernie. Thank you to Leimaile and Kaeo for heading this effort! Thank you also to Aunty Lyndell for finding us the perfect Key to sing it in. That was a beautiful way for all of us to honor our Grandmothers love of music and Family. She was proud.


Thank you to my Mom. Thank you for teaching me how to Haku. That was my gift to my Grandpa and in turn Grandpa gave it to Grandma. 

EVERYONE did something to help in this effort. Thank you. 







Iʻm going to stop here. Why? Because Iʻm tired. I think Grandma wants me to remember the love and pain and tears and laughter and joy and…. HER. But I know she doesnʻt want me to dwell in it. I know there will still be moments that I will want to call her just to catch up or to hear her complain about someone or something… usually Grandpa and her Computer… But instead I will call YOU.

I will call YOU. I will keep in touch with YOU. I will see YOU at Grandmaʻs House.




I love YOU.

Happy Nathaniel




PS… The title of My next bloggy will be “Grandmaʻs Fourth Great-Grandchild” or “The Filipinos and Koreans Throw a Party”. Until then…

Friday, April 4, 2014

Grandmas Love: Fifth part in my Memories of Grandma

Aloha My Family and Friends...

I should name these stories the “Airport Diaries.” Im sitting in the Newark Airport in New Jersey waiting for yet another flight. Another Severely Delayed Flight. I am on my way back to Hilo for Grandmaʻs Services. I hate having to write that. It is as if these journals have become my painful proof of my Grandmothers passing. By writing this all down I am assuring that I didnʻt dream up some nightmare, Itʻs not just another story that I need to write. It is my story.

I like to write fiction. This is not fiction. Non-fiction. The characters are real. The plot isnʻt some well-conceived drama of my mind. It happened. The feelings that drip and flow onto the little pixels of my computer are true. 

Thank you for reading my truth, my Family and Friends. Thank you for reliving these moments with me. I need you. I need you to read. You may not understand, you may not agree or you may not grasp everything fully… Or you might. Either way… thank you. If you haven't already please read these other blogs in the order listed. Its just better that way.

1)Grandmas Voice
2)Grandmas Hands
3)Grandmas Smile
4)Grandmas Strength




Grandmaʻs LOVE

Grandma... You weren't perfect. I have written that you were honest but sometimes your honesty was too biting and sometimes just plain hurtful and wrong. Anyone who was ever on that side of your wrath knew how it felt to be choked by your love. 

Love isn't always beautiful. You taught us that sometimes you can love so hard that it blinds you. Sometimes, out of love, you can hurt. Your lessons were not always filled with hugs and kisses... In fact, I know of a few times (especially in my college years) where you told me where to stick it. I know of a few times where you'd let your family and friends understand the YOU WERE NOT HAPPY... And you wouldn't keep it to yourself... you'd let others know that fact as well.

So what. You were not perfect. And neither are we. I'm not going to pretend you were. This is not why I'm writing about you. I want everyone to remember you as the highly stubborn, insanely loving, highly volatile, colorful woman that led our family.

I love you Grandma. I can only pray to one day have half the attitude you had.



And talking about attitude… since this is going to find itʻs way onto Facebook minutes after I post it on to Blogger… Let me discuss briefly about FACEBOOK. My Grandma, OUR GRANDMA, was famous for her Facebook posts. Especially the ones in which she scolded, berated, angered, chided… you name it… she said it! My favorite was posts in which she would let everyone know that I hadnʻt called her back. I loved those. I remember once I was able to call she would remind me that I hadnʻt called. I told Grandma, “Yes, I know. I saw it on Facebook.”

So in my last blog I spoke about the “NEWS” getting post on our lovely Facebook BEFORE the immediate family was able to contact everyone. THIS WAS ALLOWED. One of the “higher ups” said it was okay. No harm was done and I donʻt think anyone inadvertently found out because of it. 

If you go back and read Grandmas post of the last month… you can see where here mind was going. She was going to God. Her posts were celebratory and full of love. I think she knew something was going to happen. 

I just wish I had paid attention more. Lesson learned. Pay more attention. Love a little more… even on Facebook. Like it or not… Facebook has become a venue in which we can all share. There are somethings that should not be shared, of course. But I think, in cases such as this one… it is better to tread with love than to create another bad memory.



Love.

I love you, my family. 

My brother is weeping in my arms and if not for my Fathers and Sisters added support, both physically and emotionally, I would have fallen.

We all tell Kepa, “You are here. You are in Hawaii and you can still say goodbye to Grandma. She knew you were coming…”

I see Jason drive back up to the side walk and I gather my family to meet him there. More hugs ensue and I take the keys from Jason. I need to drive. I need to do something that will distract me from the turmoil in me.

We arrive at the hospital and rush upstairs to room 330. Everyone is walking out. They say Grandma is being taken to the Chapel there in the hospital. I donʻt want to follow everyone there. I want to see my Grandma. I want to wake her up. I want her to look at me with the unfathomable love that shown through her eyes. I want to feel the warm love in her embrace. I want my Grandma to be vibrant and healthy and…

I donʻt argue. My mom and her sisters are in the room. They will wake up Grandma. They will give Grandma the love and care she needs. I will see Grandma soon. 

I hug and kiss family as we tread downstairs. I see Aunty Sweetie, my Grandmothers first Daughter… her Sweetie. My Aunty gives me the biggest hug and hands me Grandmas pink and orange blanket. I hold onto that blanket as if my own child were wrapped in it. I put it around me and imagine that my Grandmother is holding me even as I walk into the chapel where she lies.

To explain, to write, to lay down everything that happened in that moment… that last hour in which we all would be able to feel our Grandmother warmth, to see her in her last moment… that would be near impossible. And I will try to remember.

The first thing I remember is the amount of love that vibrated with in that little chapel. It was filled with FAMILY. There must have been at least fifty people there. This had all just happened and already we were in the embrace of so much family. 

The second… is laying Grandmas blanket back on top of her. She looked so colorless in her hospital gown and white sheet. I lay that bright pink and orange blanket down and kneeled so that I could lay on her chest. I thought I might hear her breath. I thought I would feel her heart beat under my ear. I listened and broke. The little hope that I had held in my heart broke…

…I know that through out these memories I have said time and time again that i wish Grandma was here. Or that I feel as if Iʻm going to receive a phone call at anytime. But I know thatʻs not going to happen. I just donʻt want to believe it. So please… leave me to my dreams, lies, imagination… whatever you want to call it…let me have them. Please.

It was in this exact moment that I had hoped beyond hope that Grandmaʻs heart would still be beating. I tried to infuse the love within me and within everyone in the room back into her body. She was still warm. Still soft. Her mouth was slightly open as if to take a breath. I held onto her for as long as I could. I would hold on until I could hear her heart beat. But It didnʻt. Her heart was silent. She was not breathing. She did not respond to my touch, my plea.

Please wake up Grandma. Please.

There is a blur of music and memories. Kahanu and I, The eldest Grandson and Granddaughter… we say words. Heartfelt words. We toast to Grandma with the drink of the Nathaniel Family.

Crown Royal.

I canʻt take mine so I pour it into the Hawaiian Salt water that my mom is mixing to bless everyone. Yep… If you were there, you were blessed with Crown Royal. I think that had been Micah or Keanuʻs idea. Heh... maybe it was mine...

Another memory that stands out… My Grandpa. Heʻs sitting by Our Grandmaʻs side. He is silently supporting Our Grandmother, like he always has. Our Grandfather… I sit on the ground next to him and of course someone tells I shouldnʻt be on the ground. They are right. My belly is making it impossible for me to be comfortable in positions that were once second nature for me to sit in. I just wanted to feel like his little Granddaughter again. To feel the strength and love of my Grandfather. I sit in a chair and I hug him.

He looks at me a smiles a watery smile. He asks, “Pili, you think Grandma going let me sleep in tomorrow morning.” He laughs a little. The sorrow that radiates from him is thick. My Grandfather is trying to fight it right along with the rest of us.

I smile up at my Grandfather and I tell him, “Probably not.”

He laughs.



Grandma was never afraid to speak her mind. She complained about us all. I want to say it was because she loved us, but I donʻt think that is exactly right. She complained because she had HOPES for us. She had needs and wants just like all of us. She wanted you to pay attention to her and learn. She wanted to talk to you. She wanted to cook for you and wanted you to do the dishes. She wanted you to live in her house and in her love FOREVER AND she wanted you to get your own love, life, and home. She didnʻt complain because she loved us… HER LOVE WAS STEADY and NEVER WAVERING NO MATTER OUR INDIVIDUAL FAULTS… She just had hope for us. Hope that we would all continue to grow and become the better, loving, courageous, extraordinary people she knew we could all be.

As I said before… Our Grandmother wasnʻt perfect. Not perfect. Thatʻs boring. In her cookbook she actually describes herself pretty well…

“All in all, I know I am a good and kind daughter, sister, mother, grandmother, Aunty and friend. There are a lot more stories to be told, but Iʻm at a stand still. Maybe someone else will write another page or book. Till then, Aloha 
Lovingly,
Ma, Grandma, Aunty, Aunty Grandma and Violet”

Love you Grandma. I will write until I am also at a standstill. I will be good and kind... with attitude

Love you all,

Happy Nathaniel


PS… I think the next Memory will be of “Grandmaʻs House” but… I might change my mind and start writing about … well … whatever I please. Like Grandma. 

Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Grandmas Strength: The fourth part of my Memories of Grandma.

My Family and Friends… I am really tired. These journals are hard. Every moment I delve back into the memories I feel weak, ripped raw and my poor computer receives a Hilo Rain flood of tears. But after I put the final edit and find a few pictures and click the “post” button I feel this overwhelming sense of gratitude. I am thankful that I am here and that I can share my stories of my Grandma. Thank you for reading. If you haven't already… check out the first three blogs in this series of memories. 

I know I said the title of this piece would be Grandmaʻs House or maybe Grandmaʻs Love… but itʻs my blog and I can change things if I want to. And… after I started writing I realized that the title didnʻt fit. I will save that title for another day and another story. Instead this chapter will be titled…

...

Grandmas Strength

...

I really just want to crawl into bed right now. I want to curl up next to Jason and close my eyes and…

APRIL FOOLS!!! Itʻs about 1:30 AM on April 1st, 2014. I canʻt sleep. I close my eyes anyway and wake up a few hours later to the sound of my phone ringing. I look at my iPhone and a picture of my Grandma and Grandpa, smiling, pops up on my phone. Itʻs my Grandma calling to tell me this has just been one big April Fools Day Joke. I laugh and tell Grandma, “Good one.”

This wish is definitely foolish. 

Instead of foolish wishing… back to March 15th, 2014:



I let go of Jason and search for my sister. It is almost time to pick up my Dad and Brother from the airport. 

I donʻt know how I am going to tell them. I donʻt know how I am going to tell my little brother that our Grandmother is gone. Passed. Expired. What words will I use? How will it come out? This is a memory that I will create for him that will be burned into his memory and how can I possibly do that to my little brother.

Then my Mom walks out of my Grandfathers room. 

My Mom has just told her Father that his wife has passed away. My Mom had the strength to deliver to my Grandfather that painful, soul-shattering truth. In that moment I am faced with the incredible strength and powerful love of my Mom. I realize that as hard as it will be for me to tell my brother… telling someone… telling your Dad that his wife, the woman he chose to love and cherish… the woman who cared for him… the woman who gave him his children… telling your Dad that his wife has died…

I cannot even fathom finding those words within my heart. But she did. I heard her. I will never forget the love and strength my Mom had in that moment.

My Mom walks out of Grandpaʻs room and I let her know that Jason, Leimaile and I are going to get Dad and Kepa. We discuss it and decide it is best for us to tell them at the airport and drive directly up to the hospital after.

All of a sudden tensions rise in the house. Someone has posted on Facebook. Everyone is LIVID. Not everyone knows. My BROTHER doesnʻt KNOW!!! I can only hope that the post was after he got on the plane and that he doesnʻt check when he lands. 

If you have ever been on the receiving end of a scolding by Grandma on Facebook… you understand what the words TOUGH LOVE mean. She was brutal. And we were too. Aunty Lorie called everyone to try to get this taken off Facebook. 

It was a very bad mistake that was soon rectified. 

A few more things are discussed and we are all look… lonely. In these first few moments I think we were all alone in our individual loss. The loss of Grandmaʻs love left us all cold and wandering. I saw that in the depths of us all. I felt it in my heart. Even with the strength of our family around us… there is a sort of loneliness in grief.

I give my Mom a hug and kiss. I look to Kaeo. Both he and my Mom with the help of Aunty Lorie, Uncle Scotty and Kristian will care for Grandpa. I want to care for my Grandpa as well. I want to go up to the hospital to wake up Grandma…

Instead, I hand the keys to Jason so that he can drive and with Leimaile we head to the Airport. We will rush over to the hospital after.

It takes five minutes to drive to the airport from Grandmas house and we are early. I speak to my cousin Daniel. Daniel canʻt speak. He can hardly form words and our call is short. I speak with my Aunty Kathy Babayan. She will tell that side of the family as well as our friends at Hale Lokahi, one of the churches that my Grandmother loved. My eyes hurt as I scroll down my contacts list looking for people to call. 

Kepa texts: “Weʻve just landed.”

I look at Leimaile and ask Jason to drop us off at the front of the airport. I walk toward the receiving area. I was in such a daze that I donʻt remember where Leimaile went in these first few moments. I feel strangely alone. I look up and see my Dad strut up to me with a big smile.

He looks at me and I think he knows. He hugs me and I tell him immediately. 

“Grandma passed away this morning.” 

His everlasting always smiling face falls as he gathers me in his arms. I want to cry on my Daddyʻs shoulder… but then I remember the strength of my Mom. She held on until she told her father. 

Over my fathers shoulder, I see this tall thinly muscular long-haired Hawaiian bound over to us. I let go of my Dad and put a smile on my face. Kepa is so excited and happy and bright. I was to live in his world. A world where our Grandmother is still with us. A world of light. I look at my Dad as Kepa bends down to kiss my belly. In my eyes I think my Dad sees what I am trying to convey. 

I will tell Kepa.

Leimaile appears and we talk and walk to a more secluded spot. Kepa raps on about lots of things… but I canʻt concentrate on anything except him. He throws his things onto a bench and he finally looks at me.

“Kepa…”

“No…”

More words are said... but words really do not matter in this crushing moment. Leimailes arms wrap around our brother from behind as he keels forward into my arms. I feel my little brother as if he was the little baby I raised. I feel the little boy sob in the heart of the man he has become. My little brother breaks in my arms.

My Dad wraps his arms around us all and we are all kids again. 



Tuesday, April 2nd, 2014. 12:08 AM… I am slowly coming to the realization that my Grandmother has died. Slowly. I was there and so were you. You saw her. She was still warm. Still soft. So much so that I thought she could have been sleeping. I think Iʻve put it into my head that she is just sleeping. She will wake up and call me... 

But it is no longer April first and I am not a fool. I must put foolish thoughts aside and have the strength to carry on. Strength my Grandmother would have wanted me to have.

Earlier today, as Jason and I were driving to our ultrasound appointment, I almost broke. I looked down at my ever-expanding belly and I began to tear. Our baby will never know my Grandmother. Her voice. Her hands. Her smile. Her amazing capacity to LOVE. Baby will never know how it feels to be held by her. To have her tell a story of her youth. To have her smile that brilliant smile. Baby will never know how strong my Grandmother was.

… IF I do not teach.

Our Grandmother taught us all. She taught my Mom and her sisters and in turn I was also taught.

I must teach our baby how to tell a story.

I must teach our baby to SMILE just to show the world your gratitude for LIFE.

I must teach our baby how to have an OPEN, LOVING HEART.

I must teach our baby that HANDS were made for CREATING.

I will teach our baby what it means to be STRONG.


Strong like my Grandma.

One of my favorite pictures of our Grandmother.


Have Strength, my Friends and Family. 

Aloha,


Happy Nathaniel

PS... Here is something for your hands to create... It goes great with the Sweet Bread Recipe I posted a few days back. 

PORTUGUESE BEAN SOUP

2 cups red kidney beans - canned or dried
1-2 lbs. ham hock or canned ham - cut into bite sized pieces
1 medium round onion, chopped fine
2 cloves garlic, chopped fine
1 stalk celery, chopped fine
2 quarts water or more if needed
2 to 2 potatoes, cut into 1 inch cubes
1 large carrot, cut into 1 inch cubes
salt and pepper to taste
1 tsp allspice
1 can tomato sauce or paste
1 cup macaroni

If using dried beans, wash and soak beans in water over nite.

Boil ham hocks in water (2 quarts) until tender. Take ham out and cut into bite sized pieces. Put back in pot and add onions, celery, garlic, beans, tomato sauce, allspice, salt and pepper and simmer for 15-20 minutes. Add carrots and potatoes. Cook for about 15 minutes then add macaroni. Cook until macaroni is cooked. If seasoning is needed, add. Any type of vegetables may be added.

When using canned ham, and/or canned beans, boil everything together.