For me, future me, and my mama.

Archive for December, 2011|Monthly archive page

The Good Commuter.

In Thoughts. on December 30, 2011 at 8:05 am

“Not in here, not in here, not in here,” I kept repeating as I pleaded with God to hold off the vomit until after I could get off of the train.  For not only was I in public (obviously) which is not the most ideal place to toss your sugar cookies from the night before, but I also happened to be on the most crowded Metro North train everrr–the day after Christmas, heading back into the city.  [Forehead slap]  I should’ve known.  I’m talking people, people, and more people crammed into all possible aisles as well the boarding and emergency areas.  Even the places you wouldn’t think could hold people, had people.  And with every personal bubble popped and property line erased, we were about to get really acquainted with each other really quickly.

So, there I stood.  Sandwiched between strangers and unable to steady myself from the dreadful sway of the train, I reeled back and forth and all around as the usually picturesque Hudson River and trees began to blur together like a watercolor painting by a 4-year old.  “45 minutes?  45 minutes!!!” I screamed in my head.  The 6-minute Westmont shuttle ride from Montecito Vons to campus was already bad enough, 45 minutes was an absolute absurdity.  Furthermore, the thought of throwing up on my poor and unsuspecting neighbors with nowhere to go was also intensely mortifying.

“Next stop: Grand Central Station,” I at last heard the muffled voice of an angel say.

I exhaled with relief as the train entered the familiar enclosure of Grand Central and my desperate prayers transitioned into, “Just get me off, just get me off, just get me off…”  DING!  The flimsy double doors slid open, and with a spirit of jubilation, I quickly assimilated into the mass exodus from Track 34.  I then proceeded to make it a mere 12 feet out of the doors before nausea completely overwhelmed every fiber inside of me, and I realized there was no way I was going to make it into the station.  I had to sit down, so I did, right there, in the tunnel, on the floor, criss-cross apple sauce style while hundreds and hundreds  of people continued to pour out of the cars and scoot around me as they headed for the exit (I did move to the side, for the record).

And there I sat.  With my head in my hands, I wanted to throw up.

Then, much to my surprise, out of the endless flood of holiday commuters knelt someone by my side, genuinely concerned and wanting to help.

“WOW,” I marveled to myself…touched by the kindness of a stranger, amazed by the impact of a single deed, and convicted by its lesson…

…that there on the grimy New York ground and amidst the people people people people people people people people people people “Hey there…” people people people people people people people “Are you okay?” people people people people people eye contact people people people people people people people people people people people people people people people “Can I help you out in any way?” people people people people people people people smile people people people people people people authenticity people people people and more people, I felt LOVED.

LOVE.  Not as in the mushy gushy, Hollywood-manufactured, where-is-my-Prince-Charming-at kind of love but rather the kind that comes in the simple acknowledgement of one another’s humanity.  The kind of love that would have a King kneel with beggars and wash the feet of His own servants.

Now, I was able to make my way into Grand Central (and sat on that floor for a bit) and eventually returned to Brooklyn in good health.  Still all the while home and even up until this point, I’ve been reflecting on why this episode has struck me as strongly as it did.  And in the end, I suppose I don’t have a conclusion so much as I do a greater appreciation for the little acts of kindness that have the power to turn yucky moods into good moods and awkward experiences into deeply-contemplated blog entries.  Sooooo, that’s it.  That’s all I got, but I’m thinking a smile and kind gesture are all I really need in order to begin to making a difference.

1993: Preserved from the Ravages of Time [S.Wee].

In Excerpts. on December 13, 2011 at 8:31 am

This is why I write things down.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!  We thought we would send a newsletter this holiday season because time seems to pass so quickly, and there never seems to be enough time to write to all of you.  Do know however, that you are all in our thoughts quite often.

So much has happened in the past year.  First of all, the kids are growing up so quickly.  David is 11, Chris is 9, Brad is 6, and Stephanie [Malia] is 4.  David is growing up to be a nice young man.  He does well in school and again will be on the basketball team this year.  He is in his 6th year of karate and is now a brown belt.  He just got rollerblades and has been practicing as much as he can.  He is quite good with the younger kids, does housework with a minimum of arm-twisting and overall is a good kid.  Chris also does well in school, has a phenomenal memory, except when it comes to things like remembering to pick up his clothes or brush his teeth.  He also takes karate and just got rollerblades.  He also does housework only under duress.  Brad is learning to read bedtime stories to me.  He also takes karate and our guess is that he will eventually be the athlete of the bunch.  He just got rollerblades today and we were outside practicing with a karate belt tied around his chest and me holding the other end, lifting him up every time he would fall.  The two of us were probably quite a sight.  He had no injuries, but I got run over, kicked and scratched up several times.  He falls, but I get injured…funny how being a dad works.  Stephanie [Malia] just started Hanalani Schools this year, and now all 4 go to the same private Christian school.  She loves school, wants to be a teacher, and will go around pretending to read books to a class, and asks to bike without training wheels and is almost always a pleasant and loving child.  I needed a girl just like that.  For the past year, she has taken dance lessons which are a combination of jazz, tap, and ballet.  She has a great time at dance and recently was in a community parade and programs at a couple of shopping centers.  She has several outfits including a “caveman” one for a song about dinosaurs, another Princess Jasmine costume for her Aladdin song, an outfit complete with ballet tutu for dancing to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”, and others.  So cute!  The first time I saw her in practice was one of the those moments I will remember for the rest of my life.  David and Chris joined Cub Scouts this past summer and I am an assistant den leader, complete with uniform, patches and a hat.  We have been having weekly meetings at our house and it is really a lot of fun, although somewhat time-consuming.  We were all in another community parade on the Cub Scout trailer, and had a great time.  David ran / walked the two mile course and passed out candy.  The rest of us rode.

We renovated our house.  After about 3 years in the planning, construction began in May and continued for almost 5 months.  Every single area was changed to some degree and we had to move out.  Luckily, we were able to rent a house 2 doors away so were able to watch it come up, communicate easily with the contractor, remain with the same neighbors on our cul-de-sac where the kids could play, with lots of neighbors their ages.  It was still a two minute commute to the office, and the kid’s school routine was not disrupted in any way.  We rented space in a public storage facility nearby which was convenient.  Being two doors away from our house made the move slightly less horrible and were able to move our things back and forth even late at night, and I suppose things went about about as smoothly as possible.  We are back in our house now and still have boxes all over the place, but are quite pleased with how things turned out.  Each child has their own bedroom, and we have a study where all of us can work.  There is a little workshop area off the new garage, a larger kitchen, and all in all, we are quite happy with the way things turned out.

The office remains busy and we are very fortunate to have excellent employees.  We have been in practice together for about 9 years and for all its hassles, really enjoy the flexibility of being our own bosses.  We are in the middle of the fastest growing area of Oahu, both residential population and commercial-wise with K-Mart, Eagle Hardware, Sam’s Club and Wal-Mart all opening within 5 minutes drive of our cul-de-sac.

I hit the big “4-0” this year.  I feel good and have no complains about the milestone, because as far as I am concerned, life just keeps getting better.  Theresa and I have been “working out” at the YMCA several times a week for the past couple of years in an effort to slow the deterioration of the old bod.  Seems to be working nicely for her, at least.

No major trips this past year mostly because of everything going on with the house, but we will probably try and get the kids back to Disneyland next summer.  We did have a short trip to visit my dad on Maui, and will return over New Years’.  During their longer breaks, we sometimes send David and Chris up there by themselves to visit.

Well, that’s about it for now.  For those of you who have written, thank you for your letters.  For those of you that haven’t, the ball’s in your court.  We really have been thinking about you, particularly as we unpack a Christmas ornament, a wedding gift, a picture, or something with a special memory.  Life is full and we have a lot to be thankful for.  We wish the same for you.  Happy holidays!  Take care.

The Pending Passion.

In Thoughts. on December 2, 2011 at 7:23 pm

The open hardwood floor at work stares at me.  It calls to me, “COME.”  All the while, the beat in the background pulsates through the overhead speakers, and in its most enticing voice, it pleads with me, “MOVE.”

And just like that, as specks of sand in my suitcase, certain places and pieces of music transport me back to a time that once was, a time when I thought I knew what I wanted and how I wanted it all to look like.  A time that currently feels like a million light years ago.

“Have I been dancing?” you ask.

Kind of.  Not really.  Okay, no. I haven’t been; still, before you catapult your best and most inspirational follow-your-dreams line my way, hear me out.

I am not precisely sure I know what my dream is.

Since moving here, circumstances have largely limited my ability and accessibility to dance.  I assure you, it most definitely was and still is not a matter of choice.   Nevertheless, the forced stillness has generated a rather hazardous habit of mine—thinking.  Oh gosh.  What is it that I really want?

I don’t know…

I don’t know.

Now, that’s not to say the flame to dance has died.  Oh how brightly it continues to burn!  And yet these days, it looks a bit more like a votive candle in a pricket stand burning at the base of the great cathedral’s altar; for the truth is, I don’t know where to go from here because I don’t know where I want to go.  Thus in and from this concrete jungle where dreams are made, the only thing I can conclude in this passage is that I can’t be the only one to corroborate this passion.

Lord.  Please.  Help.  Guide.  Lead.  Inspire.  Thanks.

[Photo Credit: Amber Schoniwitz]