June 5, 2022: Road to Hana with the Family

June 5, 2022

The birds chirping just outside my window are calling me from my sleep here on this sure-to-be-beautiful sabbath morning. I’m in a bit of a reflective mood, full of gratitude and awe for the experiences we’ve had the last few days. It may be partly because just before I closed my eyes last night to sleep, I finished rereading a book I started again on the airplane ride over to Maui: When Breath Becomes Air, by Paul Kalanithi. It is a beautifully written book about a neurosurgeon who finds himself battling terminal cancer. He focuses on finding meaning and joy in life while staring his own death right in the eyes, and well, if you haven’t read it, you should. It is fascinating. And one of my favorite takeaways is that we MUST find joy in the little moments of the here and now. It sounds so cliche, but the message is so true. And perhaps it is something that I have always focused on in my life as well. 

The last few days have been about as top notch as I could ever imagine. President Hinckley’s well-loved quote about life comes to mind. Here is part of it: “Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.”

And he’s absolutely right. I am so thankful every day to the Lord for letting me have this ride. From the ups and downs and back-breaking labor of home and family life, to the occasional beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed, I feel to fall to my knees in gratitude that for the time being, my breath is still breath, and my life is still life, and oh, what a ride I am on!

We’ve spent the last few days basking in the total tranquility of Hawaii—slowly driving the Road to Hana, with windows rolled down, and the heavenly smell!!, waterfalls around every corner, ocean views that nearly make you cry, some misting rain, some pouring rain, colorful ponchos that embarrassed the teenagers, sunshine that warmed our skin, hiking to waterfalls, jumping in the pools, swimming at a quiet, secluded Koki beach and then ordering the Huli Huli chicken from the Hawaiians selling it under the trees at the edge of the sand. 

We stayed the night in Hana, at this sprawling resort overlooking the ocean. And as we wandered the massive property, we wondered if we were the only people there. Everything, and I mean everything, was so quaint and charming, with a distinctly old-fashioned vibe—no tvs in any of the rooms!—and it made me wonder if this is how Hawaii must have felt in days gone by. The kids were in heaven. Running from the little 3-hole chip and putt course, to the pool we had all to ourselves, to the rolling green hills down to the ocean. Lance and Emma gathered all the flowers that were literally falling from the trees just off our patio. We all took turns soaking in the deep tubs in the rooms with the shutters thrown wide open and the sounds of birds and dripping rain providing the background music. 

We woke up and looked out at the rolling green hills and the cows happily grazing on the hill. Such lucky cows. We ate for the second time at the only restaurant we could see in the town, on the old Hana Ranch, and Miles ordered steak and eggs. The breeze flowing in the open windows, the peacefulness—we were the only customers—the food, the hospitality, we were as relaxed and happy as a family could be. From there we kept on driving, marveling around every turn until we made it to the O’heo Gulch. Wow! The views! We walked along the sea cliffs and words just can not do it justice. After that, we hiked the roughly four-miles up and back to the amazing Waimoku Falls, through the famous bamboo forest, up hundreds of stairs, past a massive banyan tree, over the cutest bridges, with sights and smells to last a lifetime. It was fabulous! …even if Greg and I are still feeling it in our legs! 

We spent two days living and breathing along the Road to Hana and all I can say is that it lives up to its hype. And as I sat with my face nearly hanging out the car window, with the breeze washing over my skin, and Emma’s music floating through the car, and Lance snuggled up next to me, and all of us oohing and aahing about everything, I just felt an overwhelming gratitude for this “burst of speed” as President Hinckley says, for this life, for God in my life, for my understanding that true happiness is found in a family. 

Years ago my parents secured their spot on Maui. And it has been fun for me ever since! Many of us have taken a turn visiting the island, but yesterday was the first time our trip has overlapped with one of my siblings’ family trips. What a joy to see Katie and Dan and Marlee, Sam, and Lizzie strolling along the edge of the pool to join us yesterday morning! We don’t get to see them very often, so I guess we had to come all the way to Maui to enjoy a long overdue catching up. We only had one day together, but we intended to make the most of it! We laughed and talked and bobbed in the waves and sat in the hot tub and walked along the water and did trivia and cross words and ate lunch and ordered tropical drinks and had the best day! We ended it by leaving the kids eating dinner poolside, while the parents walked down to enjoy some fish tacos and Hula Pie at Leilani’s as the sun set. It was a night to remember! Back at the hotel, we found the girls sitting near the beach, having just finished their sunset photo shoot. Remarkably enough, there is a sailboat washed ashore just in front of the resort. It washed up in a storm a few months ago and apparently the logistics and permits and issues with clearing it away are extremely difficult. So for now, it is a very cute photo spot. And the girls had used it to get some darling shots. We all sat around as the light of the day kept fading, and we laughed and talked, hoping to extend our time together. Everyone had a nice sun-kissed look, a brightness in our eyes, and a contentedness in our souls that comes at the end of a great and happy day. Finally, as the stars appeared in the nighttime sky, we embraced and said our goodbyes and talked of meeting in Maui again at some point in the future! And our group walked one way, and their group walked another. And Emma snapped a picture of Greg and me holding hands as we walked away. When she showed me, my happy heart throbbed a little in my chest. What a day to be alive! Thank you, Lord, for letting me have this ride. 

To Better Golfers Everywhere: Thank You!

There just came a day in my life when I realized that I wanted to start learning to play golf with my husband, Greg. He has been squeezing in a round here and there since his teenage years, when as a high school basketball standout he convinced the golf coach to let him join the JV team just for something to do when the basketball season was over.  I’m tall (nearly six feet), athletic (I played basketball and volleyball in high school), and a lover of all sports, so how hard could it be?

Up to that point, Greg didn’t get to play that often—he was busy with medical school, residency, joining a practice—and I was always busy with babies and our home life. Eventually, Greg convinced me to give golf a try—mostly so we could spend extra time together. I think we already had five children by the time I swung my first club.  And I was truly terrible. Greg patiently tried to teach me everything he knew, but it was a rough go. Time went by. I had another baby—number six. We continued to throw ourselves into our kids’ lives. We coached teams, attended games and concerts and school programs, attended church. We took family vacations to Disneyland and Lake Powell and Hawaii. Greg built up his bustling medical practice. We did it all. And occasionally we would leave the kiddos home, dust off the clubs and head to the links.

Each time we golfed, I was nervous. I just felt so embarrassingly terrible at golf! I was always hoping against hope that we wouldn’t be paired up with another twosome. But we always were. And then I’d hope against hope that one of them would be a woman. They usually never were. And then I’d hope against hope that I’d actually hit the ball on my first try. I usually didn’t. I hated having everyone go silent, all eyes on me, each time I teed off. It was just too much pressure! One time on a really nice course, the foursome ahead of us decided to let us play through. So instead of three men watching me tee off, there were seven men watching me.  I almost had a heart attack. I prayed every prayer I could think of in thirty seconds, held my breath, swung that driver (probably with my eyes squeezed shut), and thwack, smacked the ball off the tee. My knees nearly buckled; I was so relieved. 

Try as I might, I just didn’t seem to get much better. Whenever I’d think I was improving, I would miss the ball again. Then I would inhale deeply to stop myself from falling on the soft, manicured grass and bawling like a baby. 

One time, we came upon a large maintenance crew working on our hole. I was rattled a bit. I didn’t want to kill any of them with an errant shot! Greg assured me that it would be fine, but I knew that I had very little control over my ball. I think the crew noticed my hesitation, because they started stepping aside, sweeping their arms in a “Go ahead, ma’am” kind of way. Oh boy. Now they were all watching me hit. Knees shaking, praying fervently, I swung and missed the ball, taking a chunk of grass for good measure. I looked up in time to see the crew chuckling. I could sort of hear Greg telling me to relax, to not think about it, to go ahead and try again, but I’m not entirely sure because my ears were ringing from the embarrassment. I gathered myself, saying things in my head like “You are an ATHLETE! Pull yourself together and hit this dang ball!” I swung. I hit it straight into the pond behind the men. 

Greg chatted amicably with the men while I just dropped another ball on the green close to the pin. I couldn’t get off that hole fast enough. However, just as we pulled up to the next tee box, the entire maintenance crew zipped around us to begin work on the next hole! For four holes, I hit every shot with them watching. And it was a lot of shots. On one hole, I hit it into the water three times. They chuckled a bit, ducked for cover, and tried to remain inconspicuous. All the while, I wanted to jump in the water myself and never come up! I was trying desperately to hide my discouragement from my husband. This was a rare day out without the kids. We were supposed to be having fun. But when he couldn’t help me shake it off, hole after hole, he finally said something like, “You’ve just got to get over your fear of playing in front of people!!” And then I burst into tears. It was very glamorous. 

I can’t believe I didn’t quit.

But now that all of our little ones are in school, and some of our older ones are in college, Greg and I are finding more and more opportunities to play golf. We love trying out new courses, and we especially love traveling to some of Greg’s bucket-list courses. I don’t know how much I’ve improved over the years, but I don’t have to say a prayer before every swing anymore. And I usually connect with the ball on the first try. I’m starting to see my shots end up where I was aiming, and sometimes (rarely!) I do something amazing. “That’s what keeps you coming back,” Greg always says. These days, we lie in bed at night dreaming up new golfing destinations. Next on our list? Banff in Alberta, Canada.

I’m still not good at golf. But one time, when I thought I would die from embarrassment, Greg told me these beautiful words of wisdom that have made all the difference for me: 1. No one cares if you are a duffer. Everyone is just happy to be the better golfer. 2. Everyone is friendly when you are playing golf. 

Those encouraging words have proven true time and time again. 

So, to the professional soccer player and his dad in Hawaii, to the Chicagoans on vacation in Phoenix, even to the scary-looking dudes in Mesquite, Nevada, and to the countless other twosomes we have encountered—four or five hours is a long time to spend with complete strangers—I hope you felt happy being the better golfer! Thank you for being nothing but kind. Thank you for sharing stories, for sometimes chunking your own hit, for getting to know me, for giving me a few tips of your own, and for cheering when I sunk a long putt. Thank you for peering closely at my cell phone while Greg teed off to see a picture of my kids after you got over your surprise that we have six of them. And yes, they are all ours. Thank you for showing me that everyone truly is friendly on the golf course. And that I’m welcome in this game too.

Of all the sports I have ever tried to play, this is by far the most challenging—and the most embarrassing. But thanks to all of the better golfers who have ever been gracious to me or someone like me, I’m still here swinging my clubs. Feel free to look away and make a little noise. I’m not that much better.