Missy's World...

I really could fill a book with just quotes that come from this little girl's mouth--quotes that truly make me belly laugh. She is not trying to be funny in the least, but the things that come out of her, and the way she sees and interacts with the world are sometimes so humorous... Of the three, she is probably the most tender-hearted and sensitive... although, the very thin layer on her outside can be tough, contrary, an dramatic!

At prayer-time, this little angel has her eyes closed the tightest and her hands clasped most earnestly...her heart-felt blessings for those around her can bring me to tears. Her Grandma Frances passed away a few weeks ago, and she said that she and Papa (her grandpa who passed away three years ago) were "alive in heaven together now." She blessed her friend's mom who "is also in heaven now," and lists all the special people in her life (including our dog, cat and her stuffed bunny)...She recaps all her feelings throughout the day--who she's angry at, what made her sad, why she doesn't want her brothers touching her pillow, ALL in her bedtime prayers...Sometimes her conversations with God can be verrrrrrryyyy looooooong, but she means every word of it from deep in her special little soul...

And then to round out the day, we'll have a conversation such as the one we had today, when she told me how excited she was to be invited to her friend Isabella's birthday party. She listed all her friends that would be there, and said "AND Adam will be there too, Mama!", smiling and obviously very happy about it. So when I asked if Adam was her "special" friend, she replied very matter-of-factly, "No... Adam is the boy I punched in the stomach. But he's my friend now." And that's our little princess in a nutshell...

The Talent Show

A few months ago, Matthew and Missy decided they wanted to do a karate demonstration for the school's annual talent show, and their wonderful karate instructor/ babysitter Mr. Joe agreed to help them. Three weeks before the big night, Matthew had second thoughts and wanted to "change his mind." He felt anxious and nervous about being in front of all his schoolmates, and I told him that I was not going to force him to participate if he really didn't want to. It looked as though the show may go on with only Missy performing, which would have been fine...but Mr. Joe had a long talk with Matthew and asked him to reconsider---that once they practiced their routine, he would feel more comfortable, know what to expect, and he would be proud that he did it after it was over. Reluctantly, Matthew agreed to think it over...he rehearsed the performance willingly, and gradually he became more confident in what they would be doing...

Missy was pretty much along for the ride, oblivious to what it all meant at first, and depending on her mood she would either be really happy about practicing or in tears proclaiming the end of the world. On the first particularly difficult evening, in between crying episodes, I finally just told her, “Missy I’ll give you five bucks if you practice nicely and do your very best for this talent show.” Not one of my proudest motherly moments, but it got her through that evening thankfully. The rehearsals after that went pretty smoothly, and Mr. Joe was a trooper, keeping them focused and motivated…

The big night finally came, and the atmosphere in the big high school auditorium was exciting. Kids wearing their performance numbers around their necks, squealing with anticipation...families waiting anxiously for their little “stars” to perform… The “one” performance we were interested in (of the 69 total acts that would last 4.5 hours we were told) was THANKFULLY number 3 on the list…AND THEY WERE WONDERFUL. Missy looked like she was in her glory, grinning from ear to ear running, jumping, kicking and having the best time. Even Matthew looked as though he was enjoying himself and took the performance very seriously. They received enthusiastic applause from the audience, and Missy looked as though she wanted to stay on the stage just soaking in all the accolades. It was a fantastic finish to a journey that started off a little bumpy…It was a relief to be done, but everyone was happy about the outcome…

On the way home, reflecting on the experience, Matthew’s first comment was, “That was really fun!” and he was glad that he ended up deciding to go through with it…That so warmed my heart…and made me very proud….Our little princess Missy had her first comment the second she came gliding ever so happily off the stage and came to sit next to me in the audience. I was beaming with pride at her accomplishment and how she was like a little ray of sunshine up there. She leaned over to me, I leaned closer to her, thinking how beautifully my little kindergartener was blossoming…and she looked at me very seriously straight in my eyes and said, “Can I have my five bucks now?”

Matthew's Pilgrim Project

Definition of pilgrim..."a person who journeys, esp. a long distance, to some sacred place; a traveler or wanderer; a newcomer to a region or place..."

The assignment was to research pilgrims, then make one using a clothes pin and other items of the student's choosing. A short written explanation accompanied each child's project...and this is what Matthew wrote:


"My pilgrim is me. I came from
South Korea to live with my family in America. I was adopted when I was 7 months old. I'm wearing a hanbok. Koreans wear hanboks on special days, like
birthdays."

The Story of the White Feather...

The week before Dad passed away, he lay in a hospital-type bed in our living room in Mililani, surrounded by all the people who loved him the most…One night as he slept, my mom saw a little white tuft of “fluff” emerging from his pajama shirt pocket. She examined it a little more closely, plucked it from his pocket, and discovered it was a lovely, half-dollar sized, soft white feather tucked almost intentionally, safe and secure next to his big, warm heart…Puzzled, she queried everyone, asking if they knew where this feather came from…but with no luck in solving the little mystery. She jokingly surmised that it must have come from an angel who was there to watch over Dad, to which my nephew, Tommy (in all of his 25 adult years), very concerned and adamant, told Grandma, she “better hurry and put it back in his pocket!”

Over the course of the next week, that little feather became a very special symbol and source of comfort to all of us. It was never far from Dad, whether it was in his pocket, on the bedside table next to his Bible, or in someone’s hand…It was a reminder to us of his noble and accomplished life…like that of a bald eagle (which happened to be Dad’s last silver U.S. Air Force insignia, pinned on when he became full Colonel, and worn until his retirement after 30 years of service)…it was a reminder of his famous soaring jump shots as an All-Star college basketball player at the University of Hawaii—he was even recognized by the press as being one of Hawaii’s top five best basketball players of all time…it was a reminder of his angelic singing voice, which amazingly warranted him a singing scholarship on TOP of his athletic scholarship…He was so accomplished, and yet, he was humble, reserved, giving and generous. That feather was a symbol of the angelic protection around him, but it was also a symbol of the protection he always provided to all of us… And, it was a symbol of true peace (often represented by a white dove)--a peace that he would soon experience for eternity.

Even after he passed away, Dad’s white feather continued to bring us comfort and peace, and it reminded us of his continued presence, particularly during very significant times…

The morning after he died, I went into the backyard to breathe in some fresh Hawaii air and just be alone with my thoughts and prayers for a little while. It was fairly cool and damp, as Mililani can often be, early in the morning in late March. As I stepped out onto the patio, I looked down, and in the open area in front of me, all by itself, on what looked like an artist’s canvas, lay a little white feather. At that moment, I could just feel my father’s presence, and I felt an overwhelming sense of quiet peace and reassurance that he was in a wonderful place now--free from illness, pain, and once again, able to soar like an eagle…

In the coming days, weeks, months, and even now—almost 3 years after his passing, there have been “white feather encounters” that are just too significant and countless to be coincidence…

At Dad’s funeral, he was honored by the military in a moving ceremony including a 21-gun salute, a flag presentation to my mom, and the playing of Taps. The picturesque Hawaii Veterans Memorial cemetery sits in a lush green valley, with a breathtaking view of the Windward Oahu mountains as the backdrop. At the end of the ceremony, the perfect pitch sound of a single trumpet echoed its Taps melody throughout this beautiful valley, and to our amazement…a single white dove slowly circled in the distance and then soared past us, almost as if on cue, in a “fly-by” performance for all of us to witness…

On Easter Sunday, a week after Dad died, I stood at the trunk of our Hawaii rental car to retrieve the kids’ long-awaited Easter baskets. As I opened the trunk, a single white floating feather descended and landed before me, as if presenting itself as a gift…Later that day, as my niece Angie lay sun-bathing in the backyard, she opened her eyes only to find another white feather land on her…

A few months later, a dear family friend--someone who was like another brother to our family, and extremely close to Dad--came for an emotional visit with us in Maryland after Mom moved here..and a single bright white feather lay all by itself on the immaculately clean, dark blue carpet in the lobby of his hotel, as we said our good-byes…It was a difficult visit for my mom, and that feather brought her a great deal of comfort…

Several times, when I had been working out at our karate school doing kickboxing, and having a particularly hard day missing Dad, I discovered RIGHT before me on the bright blue floor…what else…a white feather. I have told a couple of friends of my “white feather” experiences, and one of them--a karate instructor, shared with me one day, that my daughter found a white feather in class and handed it to him. Unknowingly, she gave it to the one person in the class that day who knew of its significance…

Someone once told me that my dad’s life reminded them of the Forrest Gump movie…His life experiences were vast…He traveled the world …He seemed to excel at pretty much everything, both intentionally, and accidentally...The DAY AFTER this was mentioned to me, the movie happened to be on TV and I watched it again, after not having seen it since it was released a decade or so before. What I had forgotten, was the opening and closing scenes of the movie-- a white feather floating back and forth through the air, over Forrest Gump’s town…

One Sunday at church, the pastor had passed out sealed “mystery bags” of “stuff” to everyone. At the end of the service, everyone opened their bags together, and he explained what each of the items in the bag represented. One of the items was a feather, and honestly I can’t even remember what he said about it. What I do remember, however, is everyone around me pulling out black feathers. I was having trouble finding mine in the bag, and when I finally felt the soft fluffiness deep in the bag, I grasped it between my fingers, pulled it out, and it was…a WHITE feather…and from what I could see--the ONLY white feather!

And the stories go on and on…

So many “little” coincidences…But each one at a time that had special significance and impact…I choose to believe that there is a higher power presence and influence in all of this…that my dad is not far away, and that he is now that guardian angel who is watching over us and protecting us still…and now HE is the one who is carefully placing precious little white feathers in our pockets…