Updated: Feb 10, 2020
I have been blessed to walk this beach with Tom for nearly seventeen years now, a twenty-five year hiatus separates my first trip as a impressionable eight year old with my parents and our fateful return as a family. Our youngest was eight then as well; now she is a soon to be twenty-five year old with a son of her own. Where does the time go? I swam this beach with my Father, hanging on to his shoulders as we dove deep to find the creatures below. I did the same with Rae and Tommy decades later; Rae linking her arm in mine as we snorkeled the water's edge. I can see vividly the Japanese fisherman casting far beyond the reef line as we ate breakfast from the lanai; surfers now replace their forgotten shadows on the horizon in the early morning hours.
Certain places capture your soul. Kauai, and Hanalei certainly have mine. I remember unpacking a box from Dad's office after his death, finding a small framed photo of the Bali Hai sunset taken back in 1978; hair stood on end as I realized this seed was planted thirty-five years prior. I hear my Mom softly singing when Puff the Magic Dragon crackles on our phonograph. Dad wanted to buy a place back then; but Mom said no. It is all the more prophetic that seven years ago we placed our stake in the ground, literally just steps away from where I played as a child. Only time unfolds the connections we share with our parents, often hidden just below the surface.