So we have officially left Hawaii behind. I still feel as though I were going on some extended vacation and not at all as if I had moved on entirely. I cried and cried almost the whole way to Hilo to eat at Ken's one last time and then to hop on board.
And I still think...
I never got to eat at Merriman's.
I didn't buy a Koa salad bowl and forks.
I didn't go surfing or learn a hula.
I never stood at the top of Mauna Kea.
I want to go home.
Where I can...
Eat crepes at the Farmer's Market. Or lau lau. Or teri pork.
See snow and sand from the same viewpoint on the road to Hawi.
Go on my daily walk down Mud Lane with my kiddos.
And part of me thinks that God made my last day rainy on purpose because if it had been sunny I would have went to the beach and stood there on the sand with my heart breaking into little pieces and this empty void where the life that I have made being cleansed out with seawater washing back and forth on the waves...
Oh, man, enough, now. That's enough.