I Miss Playing in the Sand
Aloha Nephew. I hope you're reading this when you are older and can fully understand what I say to you now:
I really, really wanted to share this moment of You. Because you remind me so much of myself when I was a keiki: same coloring, similar hair, similar smile. Same soft spirit. In fact, I played on this very same soft, warm sand at Waimea Beach Park when I stood at your height! Your Gramma used to drive your mom, your Uncle Keo, and your Uncle Kalani halfway around the island in our dimpled, gray primer painted '63 VW Bug, beach chairs in tow (no air conditioning to blow), so we could frolic at just about the same spot you're pictured here, crouched and ready to fly high.
It was my favorite beach in all the world at a time when every beach was my favorite beach in all the world. And so that's why I wanted to post this photo of you, Nephew. But I also wanted it up little pup because it forever captures a special moment on the sweet-salty island home that raised me; and that now mothers you. Because that was an incredible, indelible moment you'll never remember. But I always will.
You were much too young to recall it, with every minute of everyday so full of specialness - - each moment to the next hardly standing out from the rest. But for grown up me, those kinds of moments have come fewer and farther. The distance between high and low, in the many seasons that now seem to just come and go.
Thus, the special times, fleeting or not, I cherish now more than ever. And so, Nephew, this moment From Above, I will never, ever forget. Because you were so free. So full of joy, so full of glee. And it reminded Me. It reminded me of what That was like. And what it should be like. And what it can still be like. And because it reminded me . . . of me . . . when I was you.
It doesn't matter that you will never remember it Nephew. I will. And for this moment from above, I'll always be grateful. More than you could ever know.
Your Uncle Keoni
P.S: Eat all your broccoli.