Saying goodbye to Hawaii was difficult. I had grown up there. I turned around in my room and took in the empty walls, the warmness I soon would forget in the northern chill of Manhattan. I closed my eyes as a tear reluctantly slipped from my eye and cascaded down my cheek. This was going to be much harder than I thought. I held back any sound, sitting in the corner of my room where my bed used to be. I missed it, the red and black bedding, my grey pillow, the poster of Footloose directly over my head. This was what was best for me though....I guess.
I took my backpack and looked out my window one last time to see the Hawaiian sunset. Magnificent oranges, bright reds, deep pinks and purples, I let out a sob as I watched the crystal blue waves roll in, the white foam seeming especially frothy and welcoming. "Goodbye Kaneohe...I'll miss you..."
And then, just then, I fell to my knees, my chest heaving with sob after sob. I felt arms around me. My mother. I cried harder as she rubbed my back. "Ku'uipo. Listen. Don't worry. You will be fine. After all, you are my ku'uipo."
I sighed. She was right. I stood and we walked over to the car that was waiting for us. It was a long and tiring drive to the airport. "Mama?"
She turned from the front seat and locked eyes with me. "Yes?"
"How long of a flight is it?"
