"It looks so different."
"We knew it would Josh. But look, they're rebuilding."
"Do you think it's going to be a restaurant again?"
Rosie wrapped her arm around Josh's neck lovingly. "I don't know, but if it is, they'll never have as good as pancakes as we did."
My suit flapped in the heavy wind. Rosie's long, pink dress threatened to entangle around her legs, but she didn't seem to care. Bright pink toenails stuck out from a pair of white flip flops. She pressed a finger to the pink flower she had put behind her ear.
Josh patted Rosie's arm and took a couple steps closer. He shoved his hands in the pants pockets of his own suit. His head turned to the right and I knew he was staring at the tree where I had found him hiding. Josh's wounds ran deep; healing was coming slowly. As I studied the thick bark of the tree myself, I marveled that it all seemed so long ago and yet, it also seemed like yesterday.
"Are you ready, Josh?" Rosie asked softly. The boy took another minute, but he finally turned and nodded.
The three of us walked to the end of the pier. Rosie's engagement and wedding rings sparkled in the light as her hand touched the belly that had begun to protrude. I climbed back onto the boat and came down with a large box. Joshua stared at it and I saw him swallow hard. He walked over and opened the lid. With shaking hands, he lifted out his mom's urn. Rosie turned and took Tito's.
"Josh, do you want to say it?" she asked softly. He tucked his head down, but he nodded. I put down the box and lifted the very last thing out of it: a large wreath adorned with bright tropical flowers. Josh stood between Rosie and I. He slowly lifted his eyes towards the cloudless sky.
"The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
"Amen," the three of us said in unison.
Joshua went first. He opened the urn and took the bag with his mom's ashes from it. His lips quivered as he opened the bag.
We waited.
I had been worried about doing the ceremony today. We had awoken to a cloudless sky, completely devoid of wind. But Rosie had insisted. It was the one year anniversary of the quake. And sure enough, as we had walked around taking in the rebuilding process, the wind had picked up. But now, now that we were ready, it was dead again.
"Mana'o nani," Rosie whispered, pleadingly. "Wind, take their dreams to the sky."
Again, we waited. At first nothing happened. But then, less than five minutes later, like magic, a small gust of wind came from the west. It began to catch the ashes in the bag and we watched as they sailed out towards the ocean. Josh's tears trickled down into the collar of his white shirt, but at the same time there was a certain peacefulness that surrounded him that I hadn't seen before. Rosie rubbed his back and kissed his temple before repeating the process with Tito's urn.
After both bags were empty, Rosie turned to me and nodded towards the wreath. I knew my part. I got down on my knees and leaned in towards the water. I gently placed the wreath down and watched the ocean reflect on the bright colors of the petals as it began to float away. I said my own quick prayer. I prayed for all of the others that had parished in the quake. And yes, I prayed for Lauren. I pressed a kiss into my palms and closed my eyes.
Above me, Rosie began to sing. I got lost in a flashback, but it was a memory from the not so distant past. I closed my eyes and thought of Kalani, her head tilted back and singing from her sole. Rosie sang the same Hawaiian words as the old lady had sang that day and again I felt the stirring of emotion.
I felt the hope. The hope that Joshua was going to adjust to life and grow up to become the boat racer he wanted to be. The hope that Sand Island would rebuild and thrive.
And the hope that our daughter was going to turn out to be just like her mommy.
I stood up and wrapped Rosie in my arms. The words of the song faded. She snaked a hand into my hair as I placed my palm on her stomach. "Damn, you're a white guy," she whispered.
"Kiss me, Flip Flops," I countered with a smile.
And so she did.
