IMR: Entries: 2002: May: 27 — Monday, May 27, 2002

Memorable Monday A busy Memorial Day weekend draws to a close. Household population? Still three.   The Waikiki Aquarium monk seal takes a nap. Observing, Katie is only mildly entertained. The top-secret reef exhibit, coming soon. For now, reef dwellers are on display outside. Katie quietly meditates on the shark tank. A new bathing suit, a surprise beach trip. Katie does her impression of a rain cloud. My daughter looking especially cute at sunset. Magic Island draws thousands this evening. Escorts wave shakas and chant, "Aloha!" The crowd at Magic Island is huge. The crowd on the beach is even bigger. The 'parent lanterns' make their entrance. The lanterns wait as Buddhists chant. Further out, thousands more are readied. Lanters adrift, the main canoe returns. Soon, the sea shimmers with golden lights. A spectacular, yet serene, evening scene. Taiko drummers, singers and musicians play. The fourth Shinnyo-En lantern ceremony ends. Noting that her contractions — practice contractions though they may be — seemed more frequent and intense when she was active, Jen willingly subjected herself to a rather ambitious itinerary. She was up and about and walking quite a bit, I think more than she would usually be even without a passenger. This weekend, we did it all. We hit the aquarium, the zoo, the beach, two parks, two shopping centers, and finished up a few hours ago with a lantern floating ceremony off Ala Moana. If Jen were a rental car, we would be fined for excessive mileage. And sure enough, there was no shortage of encouraging signs. In fact, the apartment is littered with scraps of paper with times scribbled down on them. The one under my monitor reads: "8:56 - 9:04 (8) - 9:11 (7) - 9:18 (7) - 9:26 (8) - 9:39 (13) - 9:55 (16) - X" There's a pad on the nightstand, one on the microwave, and even my PDA has a couple of notes filed with datestamps and my poor attempts at math. Unfortunately, every sequence of numbers shows generally the same pattern. We'll get contractions timed down below ten minutes — where the doctor says we have to be, continuously, for at least an hour — but they'll only hold steady for three or four before spreading out and fading again. It was pretty disappointing, at times, especially after a particularly strong set. Holding her arm as she winced, wherever we were, would bring me back to the hospital corridor over four years ago where Jen and I walked laps around the maternity ward, hours before Katie made her debut. But eventually she'd get her breath back, and all would be back to normal, and we'd just continue on our way. "Hey woman," I'd say, jokingly. "Make with the baby already." "I'm workin' on it, I'm workin' on it," she'd say, with her best Boston accent. I know, though, that the moment will still be upon us before we know it. Probably, incredibly, before we're ready. Even if our son arrives when the doctor says he will — rather than when Jen and I suspect and hope he will — that's only three or four days away. (Jen's mom, come to think of it, may very well get here first.) This may have been our family's last weekend as a threesome. I have utmost faith in Mother Nature. Moreso than human nature, that's for sure. Jen's body is sending warning signals, for which we're ultimately thankful. Otherwise, when it's time, it's time. We'll wait. Though maybe I have been going over speed bumps a little faster than normal. For the most part, we let Katie run the show this weekend. On Saturday, when we visited my mother, she told us when she wanted to go to the neighborhood park. And when she said she wanted to go to the mall, we jumped in the van and headed down to Pearlridge. We walked all over, failing to nab a small "Lilo & Stitch" plushy at The Disney Store (sold out), but finding a cute "Monsters, Inc." book instead. We even treated ourselves to an overpriced garlic-and-butter pretzel at The Pretzel Company. Yesterday we started off with an especially long visit to the Waikiki Aquarium. Katie lucked out, as the octopus was out and about for once (instead of hidden deep in a rock). I lucked out, as they were feading the leaf scorpion fishes, allowing me a glimpse of the camouflaged predator in action (to the detriment of a few young guppies). Then, we hit Ala Moana Center where we ended up replacing my slippers (which finally snapped at the aquarium) and getting Katie a new bathing suit. (Truth be told, she's outgrowing a lot of her clothes. And we can only fake the 'bare midriff' thing for so long.) Of course, a new bathing suit meant a trip to the beach, so that's where we went next. She frolicked until the sun went down, and we had to drag her from the water with her teeth chattering. Today we found ourselves at the zoo soon after it opened. (Jen wryly noted that we'd soon have to update the "Number of Children" line on our annual family pass.) Overhead, military jets screamed past, on their way to do their traditional maneuvers over Punchbowl for Memorial Day observances. Inside, Katie led us all over the place, sometimes in circles, and it was there that Jen had her strongest contractions yet. We had to take refuge in the lizard cave for quite a while, but fortunately the komodo dragons kept Katie entertained. Unfortunately, Jen's feet gave out before anything else did, and we headed home so she could rest. While Jen napped and watched the all-day "Law & Order" marathon on cable, Katie and I took a short trip out to Mililani to visit my mom so I could teach her how to burn a CD for her digital photos. Mom made her CDs, Katie played and napped. Soon enough it was back into town for the finale: the fourth-annual toro-nagashi lantern floating ceremony. Organized by the Shinnyo-En Buddhist sect — apparently a more modern Japanese faith — this year's lantern ceremony was the first one held at Magic Island, off Ala Moana Beach Park. (In past years, it took place at Keehi Lagoon or even the Ala Wai Canal — a waterway of dubious distinction.) This year's ceremony was to be beamed live by satellite to Japan and worldwide, and was billed as the biggest yet, with over 4,000 people flying in from Japan to take part. I had no problem believing that, considering the swarm of people flooding into the park when we arrived shortly after 5:30 p.m. The parking lot had been closed off long before we got there, and the flow of both tourists and locals was constant. We paused to eat a fast-food dinner on some benches near the canoe club. We happened to sit near where two volunteer guides were positioned to direct people into the park, and as we ate we watched them smile and bow and shaka and say "aloha!" over and over and over again. Katie thought it was great, laughing and waving back dozens of times. When we finally ventured onto Magic Island, we were floored by what we saw. The park itself was a sea of people covering every inch of grass, the walkways lined with torches and giant scaffolds at the front surrounding the stage and lantern platform. But even off along the shoreline, for at least a mile of beach, the crowd continued unabated. All told, there were over 7,000 people there for the ceremony, easy. Even a brief rain shower failed to chase many people away. We stood under a narrow covered section of scaffolding near the main stage and listened to the speeches and the Buddhist chanting, watching what we could between heads and umbrellas. The speakers explained how the lanterns were to guide troubled souls to a place of peace, and made special mention of the victims of Sept. 11 as well as the subsequent retaliation in the Middle East. It was as solemn a moment as one could get with a crowd like that. When they started to set the lanterns on the water, we moved to a better vantage point near the giant video screen (so even in the crowd, little people like Katie could get a front-row view). First the double-hulled canoe with the handful of "parent lanterns" headed out. Then, further down the beach, people on a small fleet of canoes started to place thousands of additional lanterns. Finally, hundreds of students standing on the beach set their own lanterns into the water. Inside of five minutes, the surprisingly peaceful waters off Ala Moana were filled with flickering, golden lanterns. The heavy, gray clouds overhead seemed to add extra weight to the mood. It was beautiful. Before closing, a hula troupe performed, and then the taiko drummers. (They were the main reason Jen wanted to attend.) The last performance mixed the taiko drums with a chorus and a small orchestra, building to a dramatic crescendo. A most breathtaking end to the ceremony, and to our small holiday. Lantern Festival: Taiko Finale RealVideo 0:20/661k

Comments That picture of Katie in front of the shark tank is absolutely gorgeous. I love it. —Jolene (May 28, 2002 5:36 AM) I'm awaiting the new arrival (whatever his name is going to be) with bated breath. —Keith (May 28, 2002 8:14 AM) I agree, the photographs are fantastic! Makes me want to go to the aquarium. You know, Sam is a really great name for a boy... ;D —Samantha Ling (May 28, 2002 8:35 AM) E kala mai! Comments have been disabled due to overwhelming abuse by spammers. Please click through to any of the video hosting services linked above to leave a public response, or feel free to send an e-mail. Mahalo! < May 23 · May · May 28 > © 1997-2008 Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: imr@lightfantastic.org · Created: 13 November 1997 · Last Modified: 14 January 2008