Out of what crypt they crawl, I cannot tell, But every night I see the rubbery things, Black, horned, and slender, with membranous wings, And tails that bear the bifid barb of hell. They come in legions on the north wind’s swell, With obscene clutch that titillates and stings, Snatching me off on monstrous voyagings To grey worlds hidden deep in nightmare’s well.
Over the jagged peaks of Thok they sweep, Heedless of all the cries I try to make, And down the nether pits to that foul lake Where the puffed shoggoths splash in doubtful sleep. But oh! If only they would make some sound, Or wear a face where faces should be found!
While I was somewhere between Section D and E of Aloha Stadium swap meet, Jon’s head struck the reef at Backdoor/Pipeline on the North Shore of Oahu and his lungs filled with water.
He had a passionate love affair with her, the Ocean. He was always running off to be with her every chance he could get. In our relationship, she was definitely the “Other woman”. But I knew she made him happy. And so, I never tried to keep them apart. Doing so would change the man that I loved, and if that meant including her in our relationship, then I was prepared to share him with her. There was evidence of her everywhere in our life. Her accessories were all over our house and photographs of her adorned our walls. He spoke of her incessantly like he could never get enough. Even if he spent 12 hours with her today, he would still yearn for her tomorrow. I attempted to deal with my jealousy of her over the years. As a newly wed, I woke up in the early mornings searching our bed for him, but he had already gone to be with her. I knew She fulfilled certain needs that I couldn’t. As silly as it sounds, I wanted to know that he loved me more. I wanted him to respond to my calls for him above hers. I wanted to know that I had more power over him, than she did. Yet somehow, deep down, I knew she would win.
On the morning of February 9, 2005, Jon was particularly stoked! He had been craving her and there was a 6-8 foot north swell. The alarm went off at 6:50am. Jon had set it as usual. It was the same alarm clock he had been given from his parents upon graduating from high school. It had been with us every day of our marriage and frankly, it was not my friend! He simply asked, “Hun, can you get it?” We had just moved, three days earlier into his brother’s house. Our home was going to be lifted and another story put underneath, so we were sleeping on a bunk bed. When we went to sleep the night before, he was with me. But, as I got up to turn off the alarm, he had been replaced with a child. Our baby Anela was in bed with me, and he was on the top bunk. Ironic when I think of it now. I turned the alarm off and went back to bed. I had never been a morning person. Jon was. He got up and was in an especially excited mood. Ecstatic almost. He put in a new DVD he had purchased. It was of some surfers at Teahupoo and one of the surfers had survived a really gnarly wipeout. This got Jon pumped up. He got the kids ready for school and I asked him to pick them up because I was going to go to swap meet. He agreed, yet for some reason I gave Makana the house key and told him just in case, to walk home. He had to use the key that day.
We had had a nice last evening together. We had been working so hard to get the house all packed up in preparation for the build. Jon had worked long hours the days before and we were finally resting in bed. He started kissing me and I smiled. I told him I had not talked to him for so long and I missed him. I asked him if we could talk. “How long do we have to talk?” I smiled again and kissed him back, “not long I said” before I understood his desire and kissed him back into the darkness of the night.
When I was driving home from swap meet, I got a phone call. Where’s Uncle Jon? It was one of the teenagers we had at our house frequently. He’s at the beach I told her. She said that there had been a photographer hurt at Pipeline and it might be him. I assured her that it was not and that he was fine. I kept driving home; I had about another 20 minutes to go. My mind was racing over this information. I had been trying to call Jon for the last couple hours but he was not picking up. I called his brother Allen who had been at the beach with him all day. He answered. His voice was shaky. He said he didn’t know if it was Jon or what was going on. I got off the phone. I needed more information. I dialed 411 for the number to Kahuku Hospital. My phone was dying. The idiots on the other end said there was no Kahuku Hospital. I was loosing reception. Finally I got the number and called the hospital. I thought that a simple phone call would clear this all up and I wouldn’t need to worry. I had no idea what would happen in the next few hours, days, weeks, months, and now years.
“Your husband is here” (Not what I was expecting to hear). “You need to get here as soon as you can but drive safely”. I was already driving. The bendy roads on the windward side of Oahu went on and on forever. My body started to tingle. Like the circulation to it had stopped, literally like my heart had stopped pumping it through my body. I had been to Kahuku Hospital before not knowing what I would find when I got there. I was lucky that time. When I arrived, I saw that the shark had left all Jon’s body parts in tact and the 100 or so stitches were a welcome relief. It meant there was life there to save. But that time they had cleared him out of Kahuku hospital as quickly as they could. I thought about this as I was winding the roads to get to him. What does this mean? Either it is not serious at all, or it is too late. My body tingled some more. I thought of my husband on a hospital bed and knew that he could not live a restricted life void of the things he loved to do. I said to God, “It’s all or nothing”. Little did I know when I was bargaining with God, he had already closed the deal.
And so, while deciding to buy two cheap imported blouses from China, Jon’s heart stopped beating. I know the minute it happened because I heard him whisper to me and I smiled. Not about dying or anything like that. Instead it was something so typical of our relationship. While I was staring at the blouses (taking way too long), I heard him say, “Just decide already!” I looked at my watch, bought the cheap blouses, and left swap meet pushing our 2-year old baby girl in her stroller. I tried calling Jon multiple times just to check that he was going to get the kids from school but he did not answer. Now, an hour later an emergency room doctor had his hand on my shoulder and was looking me straight in the eye. He was saying words but my brain couldn’t wrap itself around them. Pulled out of the water … lifeguards …. tried …. firemen …. backup …. Paramedics …. Hospital …defibrillator …. Unable to resuscitate … and then finally the words that cut to the chase, severed my heart , and changed the course of my life. “I pronounced your husband dead”.
This is hard to read as a daughter to my mom who lost the love of her life. I miss my dad every. single. day. The love just grows and grows and grows. I am SO GRATEFUL for trials and for my heavenly father. I know he loves me. I can feel it. And I know I will be reunited with my earthly father and my heavenly father one day.