You read the defense. You had to to make this shot. I only dreamed of this while i waited long legged and clumsy. You made it happen this day. you scored a goal from half field halani and your mother never forgot this.  How was this possible? DO TELL? was it sheer will? The defenders were most definately confused and taken out of the game? explain this trick. Your mother beamed on this while never revealing all the preperation it took to do this. I LOVE THIS STORY! GIRL POWER to the NTH. All her strength now falls to you? KICK ANOTHER? for all those still scratching there heads halani kicked a goal from well over half field that was most assureldy found to be legal and well played. your mother smiles down. you were the talk of the field that day. Your mothers daughter. most assuredly.

I remember an espcially hot summer day in the Bay Area. It was probably back in the late 1980's or early 90's. I was home for summer break and there were some workers outside, fixing something or other. Although I said "hello" I didn't think to do anything much more than that, as so many teenagers often might but on the second day of the job my mother gave me some cold drinks and sliced watermelon to take out to them.

Feeling somewhat awkward, I approached these guys and explained that my mom asked me to give this to them. I'll never forget the elation immediately expressed across their faces as they stood under the hot afternoon sun. They smiled and each took big sips of the lemonade my mother made before telling how "amazing" my mother was. One of the guys went on to explain that in so many other places they worked, they were mostly just ignored or left to their own devices. It was her common decency and the recognition she gave them as human beings which resonated so much.

The more that I think about this experience which is forever solidified in my memory, I realise that it wasn't just with one set of people in which my mom gave generously.This was with everyone. Her generousity was not simply about the material but about the soulful. Her soul was deep and I've learned and continue to learn so much from her. 

People genuiney loved and continue to love my mom because she always gave everything she had of her her spirit to each of us.

There first time I recall my mother’s cunning ability teach me courage was at the doctor’s office as a young child. I must have been about five years old or so and required the removal of hardened skin from my hand. The process was only going to take a minute or so but required the doctor to literally freeze a tiny portion of my hand where the strange and unsightly hard skin was, also known as cryotherapy. He explained that it would sting but that it wouldn’t be for long.

Then out of the blue, my mother looked out to the lush green hillsides just inland from the coastline of Honolulu and asked me, “Can you see Aunty Jan’s house?”

“Aunty Jan’s house?” I asked. This didn’t make any sense because I knew my aunt lived in Washington State.

“Yes, it’s over there on the hillside.” She pointed ambiguously into the distance.

“Where?”

She said something like, “The brown house over there.”

The hillside was a tapestry of houses and colours among many of which were brown.

I could feel the pain of the freezing device on my hand and moved in discomfort. As my mom noticed this she began to continue her questioning.

“Look Halani. Look over there.”

“But I am looking over there!”

I was hurting but still trying to work out which house was Aunty Jan’s.

“Follow my finger Halani. She leaned in towards me so that I could follow the outline of her arm, following it to what I thought were the most beautiful brown hands, until I reached the top of her pointer finger with it’s feminine, natural finger nail. As I followed the imaginary line from her hand to the hillside, I could make out a few brown houses scattered among the others.

Before I knew it, the doctor had finished his procedure and was bandaging up my treatment. There were probably a few tears that had to be wiped from eyes as I recall it being very painful, although I was equally distracted my mother’s engaging question and the very nature that the fact that my auntie having a house there just didn’t add up to me.

Later that day, I asked her if she was tricking me so that I wouldn’t feel the pain. She smiled in her knowing way that only a mother can when she looks at her child and gave me a gentle hug.

That’s just one of the wonderful ways I remember my mother.