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Dedicated to Dear friends, Al and Winnie Hee,
Submitted by Tony
In early December light rain showers spread frequently over Honolulu. Our 747 was speeding on its take off to the mainland, which on that foggy and drizzly afternoon, one could only imagine it somewhere in the dark horizon.
I looked back through my passenger window and I was pleased that I could still see her in the mist waving me away. I wanted to be sad because I was leaving her, but my family was awaiting on the mainland. My emotions were mixed.
She stood radiant, waving and swaying gently in the light trade winds. She was adorned in colorful leis and the lushest of greenery. As always, she was dressed up for the occasion. Her eyes-those round, kind, smiling, loving eyes, focused intently on the climb out. Her lips, shyly, gently opened up and she softly whispered, 'Aloha'. It was not the good-bye type of Aloha, it was more of a reminder, the wedding-ring kind. The one that tells you that you are hers forever no matter where you may be. The kind that when one hears it, all the pleasured experiences with her come to mind. The happy games in the warm and sunny days at Kapiolani, under the overlooking rainbows of Manoa. The laughing dashes in the sweet balmy rain, running hand in hand to a Banyan tree. The counting of the countless stars, on a moonless night on the sands of Waikiki. It was pure joy, ecstasy, pleasure with total surrender. Every instant of feeling dedicated to an eternity of time. I did not care how many came before me or how many would follow. All I knew is that when I was with her, she made me feel like I was the only one. My twenty-trip imprints on the sand were fading slowly in the foam of the recurring tide. I knew that there would no other one like her. It would be impossible to wander throughout the world without thinking of her. She would come alive at every fragrance of Plumeria. I would want to talk about her every time I saw a Hibiscus. And my eyes would nostalgically search for her at every sound of Hawaii. The nights would be the most difficult. I will wish for the dreamless ones.
The curious passenger sitting next to me stopped reading his Wall Street Journal and momentarily stared at the strange expression on my face. He was oblivious to how the island of O'ahu was toying with my mind through the fibers of my heart.
The 747 pointed sternly at full power, away from this enchanting paradise. Would time be the only haven for the loneliness that I feared? I could not foretell...but tomorrow, January 1st, I will be returning for the twenty first time.