Southeast on Kalakaua Avenue takes one past all the high-end shopping and eventually to the beach at Waikiki. I walked past Tiffany’s, Chanel, Dior, Burberry, Fendi, Ferragamo, and the Wyland Art Gallery. Then it was Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Bvlgari, Rolex. Each lit up like Christmas showing their overpriced wares to the overpriced ego’s that shop there. All the stores I don’t shop in. I guess when I have the money I will probably go to Tiffany’s once a year for a trinket for Marian. I was simply hoping to find a 24 hour ABC Store so I could get a cheap pair of shorts. No such luck. My walk took me to the Royal Hawaiian. The pink palace. Queen and matron of Waikiki. Marian and I had the privilege of staying here for a week in 1999 so I have a certain attachment. The building is historical and beautiful. I walked through the open lobby into the inner courtyard. It’s like walking through a tunnel to Shangri-La. The grounds are impeccable. Each blade of grass and flower seem hand trimmed. The tremendous banyan tree was preparing to shade yet another wedding. The white tables and chairs in neat stacks were there waiting for the morning crew to begin the set up.
I walked through the courtyard garden to the modern tower of the Royal Hawaiian where Marian and I stayed. I proceeded down the steps to the pool and beyond to the sands of the beach. Off with the sandals! The cool sands of Waikiki felt like new, thickly padded carpet on my tired bare feet. There aren’t a lot of people on the beach at 5AM. Even Waikiki. A few fellow strollers and of course, the hardiest of surfers, at least a dozen or so. Certainly not the thousands of bodies that would dot the sand and surf like ants in an ant farm in a few short hours. I rolled up my Levis and with sandals in hand stepped into the easy waves lapping the sleepy shoreline. AHHHH! To truly understand how that made me feel, you need to read my previous blog, “The Ocean”. I made a commitment at that moment to begin each morning here at 5AM in the surf at Waikiki to regenerate and stimulate my thinking. Awaken and invigorate my dreams again.
Ironically there was a twinge of sadness mixed with the rush of pleasant emotion. How could that be? How could there be any sadness in paradise? Not necessarily sadness but hollowness, loneliness. I was alone. Marian wasn’t here. My family wasn’t here. It would have been so much better with them walking beside me, sharing the moment. I don’t ever want to be here alone again. As beautiful as it is. The sights of surf and sunrise. The sounds of the waves and birds. The smells of the ocean and the flowers. All of that diminished by the absence of a tender, yet strong, female voice. I wanted to punctuate the moment with easy conversation, the feel of her warm familiar hand, and the sight of her beautiful feet with freshly painted pink toenails leaving their prints in the wet sand in unison next to me. Call me a hopeless romantic. Guilty as charged. It is not complete here without her. Never again will I come here without the person I love.
Well it’s off to the store to find a cheap pair of board shorts so I can completely baptize myself tonight and again at 5AM tomorrow morning. It is time to renew! Aloha!
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