Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Outside My Maui Window

I picked up the dreaded Airplane Cold/Flu Virus on my flight over, and I can't decide if the cold or the cold meds are worse. I'm sitting at home drinking lots of fluids.
Tea always helps. Tea and sympathy.

This is my absolute favorite tea in the world. But you have to come here to get it. Even the box is beautiful.

I'm staying inside to spare the world from my germs, so I have to be content with the view from my windows. Here's my view to the, sand and the deep blue sea.

...and a little beyond, our neighbors' front yard. They watch the sunset each day from this vantage point.

My view to the right: Pastor Craig preparing his Sunday sermon.
I know I'm making all the Minnesota pastors jealous with this shot.

And beyond him, little dots of people in the water. Waiting to catch a wave.

It's a bit gray right now in Maui, and I hope that makes all the rest of you who aren't here feel just a little bit better. It matches my flu bug much better than sunshine does.
Nonetheless, the blues and greens are still vibrant.

Out in the distance, 3 shades of gray and the island of Kaho'olawe, a little bump on the horizon. Up close, our wonderful friendly lawn, the setting for many fine games of sunset bocce ball.
My grandchildren liked to relay race around the palm trees.
Out in that water, Joey's ashes are scattered.

Through the side window, I see this.
My favorite tropical flower--red torch ginger. Joey's memorial flowers.

A gray day matches my mood.
Funny how it never stops the surfers. Here I count at least a dozen of them vying for the waves. They will sit here for hours, rolling with the swells, taking it all in.
My son would do the same, and loved this spot for that very reason.
I get that, now. Waiting for the perfect ride.
I'm waiting too.
I miss him here. His mana (spirit) is everywhere here. I miss his surfboard on the porch. I miss his long legs stretched under my dining table, drinking coffee and taking this all in with a warm, contented smile on his face.
I love you, son.
It comforts me deeply that you are in a place called Paradise.


Robin said...

OK, I'm anticipating/hoping to be Pastor Craig someday not so far away and I foresee needing to go to Hawaii for sermon prep. Each and every week.

Hope you don't have what I've had and you feel much better very soon!

A Maui Blog said...

I like the way you said it - Joey's "mana" is here. After spending several days submerged in Hawaiian culture a week or two ago, the word "mana" has a special touch.

I hope you are feeling much better today.

Love you,

Jan said...

Karen, I enjoy your blog so much. I am a mother to a type 1 diabetic who has come close to death many times from diabetes and heart issues. Although I rarely comment on blogs, I just want to say that I truly appreciate your pain. It is very generous of you to share this journey with those of us who fear each day that we might experience your pain. Your blog makes me treasure each day I have with my son because I know that he could be taken away at any moment. Thank you so much for sharing and please continue to do so. Much love and blessings to you and your family. Enjoy your time on Maui and focus on the happy memories there. We lived there for many years and it is a truly magical place, I miss it every day! God Bless.

Jeri said...

Losses make us evaluate life, the loved ones that are no longer with us and the precious lives that are still with us. Thanks for being so real. It reminds me that I need to treasure what time I do have with friends and loved ones and not take it for granted.

Hope you're feeling better.

Love you,

Kay said...

I'm so sorry you ended up sick in such a beautiful place. Love the photos. But love the heart you have for your wonderful son as well. Hugs and peace to you today as you drink tea and recover. : )

Anonymous said...

Amen Karen.
Love and comfort.

karen gerstenberger said...

I missed this posting, somehow, and love it very much. Thank you for sharing your view and your point of view.
Whenever I visit Hawaii, it's terribly difficult to leave. When you show these photos and your words that accompany them, it makes me think it was a powerful calling, that caused you to move away. And when you get to return, even with the mingling of happy and sad feelings, I am deeply happy for you to be there.