Some of the family members we contacted supported what we wanted to do as far as the blessing was concerned.
They agreed to be there and be a part of it. Others agreed but opted not to attend, and yet others never returned our calls or e-mails, which was understandable. Vera and Polly offered their home as the meeting place with the families. Needless to say, food was prepared, and as we all sat down with the families and went over the specifics of the kind of ceremonial blessing we'd intended, which included an apology to their deceased loved ones. They were overcome by the intent. On their own, in their quiet moments, they had each confessed that they apologized to the memory of their parents and grandparents, who were victims of that hellish cycle. They each felt as if they had not done enough, or that they had trusted the hospice to take care of everything, relieving themselves of any burden they had to shoulder."My father was the very one who instilled into us the practice of filial piety, and look! Look at how I repaid him?" Charles Wong wept. "Not with filial piety; I let him die in that place. Being part of your folks' blessing is the least I could do."
Corrine Ancheta contributed her thoughts as well. "I thought it was a way to finally get my mom off my back because she was constantly on my case. I was sure she hated me. I was so stupid."
"Thank you for sharing your hearts," I said. "And thanks to Vera and Polly for this wonderful food. The blessing is this weekend, at ten in the morning sharp. We'll see you there."
***
As part of the blessing, an imu had been prepared and the entire staff of the care home were invited, along with the patients and their family members. Not only was a pig in the imu, so too were tin cans of rice pudding, sweet potatoes. The laulau and the poi were prepared separately, along with the poke and pohole salad. Water and Tea were served for drinks. Before any indulgence in the spread took place, the blessing was first. Lei maile of different varieties were offered, a very few native, banyan, and Ti-lef, but specifically from the surrounding area. All the natural 'awapuhi or ginger from the ahupua'a were made for lei as well. 'Awa was also offered, and an ahu was built on the grounds to hold the offerings. In the prayers given were all the apologies deserved by those elders who suffered under the sloth of the former doctors and staff of the old hospice. The family members were given two specific kinds of lei to offer at the ahu, one was a lei of hala, a symbolic askance of forgiveness. The other was Kukunaokala, signifying a journey; in this case, it symbolized the journey those spirits could embark on as they moved to the other side, wherever for them that might be. When that part of it concluded, I requested that the head of the facility, along with one security guard, accompany us through each floor of the care home to render the rest of the blessing.
"Hold fast to your resolve, no matter what it may be, religious or otherwise," I warned the head of the facility, Trent Minabe, and the security guard, Leif Kamaka. "Spirits might manifest, but don't be shaken. What you'll see will be like smoke wafting from a fire, thick but formless, and it will disappear no sooner than it formed. That's how we know they are moving on."
"Really?" Dusty said to me under her breath. "Who talks like that anymore?"
"I don't actually know where that came from," I whispered back to her.
"Kinda creepy," Derek said. "Stop doing it."
"Stay close," Vera interjected. "Polly and I will be right next to you."
Polly, as always, gave very good, appropriate, and reassuring shoulder rubs.
On five floors, spirits appeared in one form or another. Suffering, resigned to their fate, calling out if they could still speak, otherwise they moaned with guttural pain, and then they were gone. By the second floor, Trent had his head buried in Vera's shoulder. Leif cowered behind Polly while Derek, Dusty, and I did the rest of the blessing. The process was exhausting, but it had to be done. Trent and Kamaka couldn't have appreciated bursting through the front doors and out into the open, clean air more than anyone else that day.
"I don't mean to be rude," Trent said to me. "But why did I have to be there? You could have done that whole thing without me!"
"Liability," I answered.
"Dammit, I can't argue with that," he agreed. "Alright, alright, alright."
The rest of the day was meant for living, including sitting, eating, drinking, and engaging in social interaction. Little did they know that the spirits of those who passed from the old hospice were there too, where they all sat together on a separate table, where plates of food were placed as a symbolic way of inviting them to partake in the ceremony. At the end of the day, as the staff began putting things away, they were a bit sad that not a morsel of food was left to take home.
"For this kind of blessing ceremony, all the food has to be eaten, and there can't be any leftovers," I apologized.
Just then, the family members came up to us, offering us thanks. As they did that, they also began to hand each one of us an envelope of money. No one knew what to do, so they all handed the envelopes to me, but I handed them back to the families. "We cannot take money for what we did today. What happened today was for your departed loved ones, and we cannot put a price on what they gave to us, which is life. Maybe use this as a donation to the care home, that would be good."
***
A short time later, we were all back home, recovering from the day. I took a hot shower and later fell asleep on the couch. Dusty did the same so she could rest up for work. Vera and Polly had to go to Costco because there was a sale on eggs, and they needed to stock up on some poi. Derek put everyone on FaceTime a little after midnight so Dusty could be included.
"Eh, come to the shop for breakfast about eight o'clock," he said. "I go cook for you guys! Cheeee!"
There was no possible way to refuse a request like that. Of course, we were there the following morning for breakfast. Unknown to us was that we had the whole place to ourselves. Were we surprised by the marquee as we entered the eatery? We were, and we thought it was cool.
"Kawashima's Anykine Eats"
"Brah," Derek. "I know it's not supposed to cause normally this kind is only for New Year's, but since it's us, I made chicken nishime!"
Everyone gasped with delight. How lucky were we, to have such a meal prepared for us?
"You guys like Kirin draft, or Asahi? Or sake'?"
An hour later, we were full and as Derek refilled our drafts and sake', he raised his cup in toast to all of us. "Thank you guys for being awesome, and thanks for letting me cook for you!"
In that moment, I realized that the collective of who we were was not less than zero. We were more than that, not just paranormal. We were culturally diverse, each from a different ethnic background that needed to be honored. We were a society of a mixed plate, like from the old plantation days. That's who we really were.
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