Maui: A Memorial Journey

My parents bought the Maui condo in the 1980s and spent my Dad’s retirement years shuttling over several times a year from their home in Orange County. After Dad died Mom continued going there on her own and with friends. As the grandkids reached the age of twelve, Mom created the tradition of a trip to Maui. She said it was a great way to get to know each one as they moved from childhood to teen. She created a special adventure week for each of them with surfing lessons, parasailing behind a powerboat, snorkeling, boogie boarding, sunrise on Haleakala volcano, and driving the long road to Hana. Each trip always culminated with the best luau on the island, the Old Lahaina Luau, where the story of Hawaii was told in traditional hula and songs.

Hula at the Old Lahaina Luau

The condo has also been the family honeymoon destination: for my husband and me, my brother and his wife, nieces and nephews, and my own son and his new wife.

Mom was a floral artist and always arranged a bouquet of fresh flowers at the condo.

Whale watching to see the humpbacks and their calves 2014.

For the last seven years Diane and I traveled to Maui with my Mom on a series of “Girls Trips.” No husbands or kids, and timed so that when we were done with winter and ready to shed the layers of sweaters, turtlenecks, raincoats and hats, Maui stood ready with her promise of balmy weather and humpback whales frolicking in the warm, tropical seas. It was a time of relaxing at the condo with many years of family traditions. We especially relished “drinking down the sunset” (a phrase coined by my oldest son, Sam, when he was six on a pre-Y2K family reunion), blowing the conch shell as the sun kissed the horizon, watching for the elusive “Green Flash” as the sun’s rays shone through the edge of the sea. We always lingered to watch the best show on earth as the sunset continued to bloom, coloring the sky long after the sun sank. Our family friends Ron and Adreinne named this, “the Gloria moment,” both for my Mom and for the glorious sky show.

This last spring we had a huge family reunion, one last trip to Maui -- not just a “Girls Trip,” we had husbands, and Mom’s grandkids and great-grandkids -- to remember and scatter her ashes. We rented condos in the same building as Mom’s place, with family parties in each other's rooms throughout the week. Every night we “drank down the sunset,” gathering at the edge of the ocean, in Mom’s memory and carried on the traditions she loved. We had new adventures together, too. Bob and I played with Will, our own young grandchild, on the beach and walked to see the turtles along the shore. We went to see the blowhole on the north end of the island, swam in a rushing waterfall, and drove to the volcano in a pouring rainstorm.

We chartered a boat on a balmy, calm evening in March, big enough to hold all of us. A Hawaiian minister joined us. He performed a ceremony that included passing the Pu’olu -- a beautiful, woven basket urn made from green Hawaiian ti leaves with intricate knots -- allowing each of us a last time with my Mom’s physical presence, to love her, remember the richness and importance of her life. Tears flowed as we released her to the embrace of the sea while the minister played the ukulele. We scattered flower petals in a blanket over the water. Nearby, whales rose from the water, we could hear their whooshing exhale. Further away, they jumped and spyhopped. Flying fish leaped from the water. The sunset gave its benediction and the “Gloria moment” went on and on. Mom would have loved every minute of it.