Tuesday, April 17, 2012

In the Air

On the ground ... 
(April 11, 2012) It’s 12:04 am Wednesday morning, according to my internal clock, and the clock on my lap top.  Vegas time?  9:04 pm Tuesday.  And in Hawaii?  6:04 pm, sun yet to set.   

From up here, 30,000 feet above the earth, with my two youngest dozing in the seats next to me, all time seems to serve is to remind me of the void and disconnect there is between what I’ve left behind on the ground below, and what awaits me when I land.

My beautiful preteen daughter on my left, and my sweet and kind little guy on my right, who still feels left behind as ‘one of the boys’, yet with the girls. I look at them, their lives so little yet lived, and so much yet to experience, and I ask myself, am I doing the right thing?

Looking back, this decision to move from coast to coast, and then another six hours by flight in to the middle of the pacific, came together remarkably fast.  A job offer in November, another in December, and yet another in March ... and here we are, less than 12 hours away from our new lives in Hawaii.  Life has been so busy, the decision still seems so surreal.  I mean, who moves to Hawaii anyhow?!

Leaving this morning, with all of my furniture sold, 25 totes packed and shipped, and 10 bags in tow, we cried tears of extreme sadness in leaving the life, and people, we know behind.  Now, a four hour car ride, 6 hour plane ride, and a 2 hour layover,  here I am, on our final jet plane.  Except I don't need to know when I'll be back again.  All I need to know is that my family of five will, once again, be together, connected, and in the same time zone.  

That's all for now, my blog ohana.  And mahalo for sharing this journey with me as we strive to live in an
Aloha State of Mind

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

The Last Tuesday

Columnist Dave Barry once wrote about a child's sense of how time works, citing that his 2-year-old believed that everything that has ever happened occurred "yesterday". Capitalizing on this phenomenon, rather than arguing that it was too cold to go swimming in January, tell them they can do it on "Tuesday", Barry suggests.  They'll be satisfied, he says, because they have a definite answer, even though it actually has no meaning.  Ironically, airport information monitors are based on the same principle, lucky me.

My two youngest are old enough to understand the passing of time and, while we do leave in fact on a Tuesday, at 12 and eight-years-old, we decided on the countdown method to mark our remaining days here in Rhode Island. There it is, as plain as the piece of paper hanging on my refrigerator, our last Tuesday has been crossed out.

Life on Oahu has been a bit of a paradise for Nick and Jake.  Living like bachelors in an Aloha State of Mind, they've enjoyed exploring the city night life, play tennis just about every day, and have experienced new foods such as poke, and these little dried fish and crabs that are, apparently, eaten like candy.

Life here in Rhode Island has been a bit less paradise-like.  With the burst of beautiful weather, my mother-in-law and I did more yard work in two days then I did all last summer.  Every day is another day to pack a tote, lug it to the post office, listen to the workers complain about how heavy/many/long it will take to ship.  Then there's all the stuff.  With a four-bedroom, 2,200 square foot home with a basement, we have a lot of stuff.  Our days have been spent lugging "body bags" of donations to the drop off center, and dozens of bags of trash to the curb, feeling single-handedly responsible for the overfilling of our landfills.

No matter how much we do, there always seems to be more.  It does make planning our days easier.  As we wait to cross out our last Wednesday here in RI, you'll find me home, packing suitcases, emptying cupboards, and cleaning out closets.  There's an open invitation to any one of you to join us ...

we still have the liquor cabinet that needs to be cleaned out ...