Kung Hee Fat Choy

I can’t resist a new year’s celebration. Today is the celebration of Chinese New Year, the year of the Yang Water Dragon. I don’t know a whole lot about it and the explanations that I read online are way too complicated to relate here. I encourage you to check it out.

I do know that I am a tiger.  I also know that everybody is eating Gau today so I am too. I think that is a good start. I’m pretty sure that’s how my kids’ classmates feel when I show up to their classes and bring apples and honey for the Jewish New Year! It takes a while to understand.

Kung Hee Fat Choy

Who says you can’t go back in time?

I met my oldest sister in Los Angeles a few weeks ago for a good old fashioned trip down memory lane.

Even though we grew up in the northern Orange County area, we stayed in Santa Monica so we could be close to LAX and enjoy the trendy shopping and entertainment that the Los Angeles area has to offer.

Our hotel was conveniently located right near the I-10 Freeway, allowing us to easily address prominent items on our itinerary that were in Orange County: specific landmarks in our home town of Buena Park and neighboring towns of Fullerton and La Mirada.

We made two separate trips along the I-10 Freeway eastbound to the I-5 Freeway southbound in order to travel 35 miles and 35 years back in time to visit the neighborhood, Synagogue, schools and favorite foods of our childhood.

There is so much to share that I will separate it into several posts so as not to overwhelm anybody with TMI, including myself.

First stop on our journey: Temple Beth Ohr in La Mirada, California

We were excited to attend Friday night Shabbat services at Temple Beth Ohr in La Mirada, the shul of our youth! We went to Religious school, became Bat Mitzvahs and were confirmed at this small Synagogue on the border of Southern California’s Los Angeles and Orange Counties. Both of us were active in the Temple youth group, BOTY, during our high school days and I’m pretty sure we each managed to aggravate a Hebrew school teacher or two on the small faculty there with our talkative tendencies.

Through the magic of Facebook, and the fact that I keep in touch with several of my former Hebrew school classmates, 5 members of the Confirmation Class of 1978 were also in attendance. We sat together during services, chanting the prayers and singing the songs to the familiar tunes of our kinderhood, uniting the past and present in mutual celebration.

Posing on confirmation day with my sisters

My official confirmation photo from 1978

At the Oneg we reminisced about Religious School teachers, youth group days and whipped out our cell phones to share photos of our own kids who are presently in college and high school and having their own B’nei Mitzvahs.

When I describe what it was like to grow up Jewish in Buena Park, California in the 1960’s and 1970’s I tell them that it is very similar to my own children’s experience in Kapolei, Hawaii. I was one of few Jewish kids in my school, along with Jon Sherman and Jason Oxman. There are only a few Jewish families on the west side of Oahu and significantly fewer in the state of Hawaii than in California then or now.

Temple Beth Ohr had a small congregation of about 200 families. Temple Emanu-El of Honolulu’s congregation is of similar size.

I would also tell you that the facilities are of similar dimension and that is where I would be wrong. You know how you remember things from your childhood as being much bigger and then when you go back to visit them you realize that your perspective has changed? That happened to me a few times on this trip. I was surprised at how in reality both the sanctuary and the social hall are much smaller than memory serves. They look the same, they are lovely, just smaller than I remember.

BOTY Shabbat service held before new sanctuary was built circa 1973

My youngest sister's official 1974 Confirmation photo in front of the stained glass window in the old sanctuary which is now the social hall

My oldest sister and I in front of the same stained glass window which is now in the new sanctuary.

Confirmation Class of 1978 Reunites: Lorraine Gershun, Jon Sherman, Suzanne Atlas Skorheim, Lisa Grossman Bloch, Stacey Ellig Campbell, Don Bloch

While we enjoyed the sumptuous Oneg sponsored by the Sisterhood, we got to talk to Ellie Ursis who was the youth group advisor when my sister was in high school, Rhonda Atlas who’s home I spent as much time in as my own hanging out with her daughter when I was a teenager, Harley Rockoff who was the Temple President when I was a kid and who’s son is still a friend of mine and Sandy Bloch who’s husband was also a Temple President of my childhood and son a classmate and Facebook friend.

Then benefits of small town Jewish life shined as 1978 classmates Lisa Grossman and Don Bloch come now as a unit, Mr. and Mrs. Bloch and the new Rabbi, Rabbi Goldfarb is cousins with one of our Temple Emanu-El congregants. Jewish Geography at its best.

It was truly a Shabbat Shalom and a great way to start a nice long weekend connecting with my sister and our past.

Who says you can’t go back in time?

I met my oldest sister in Los Angeles a few weeks ago for a good old fashioned trip down memory lane.

Even though we grew up in the northern Orange County area, we stayed in Santa Monica so we could be close to LAX and enjoy the trendy shopping and entertainment that the Los Angeles area has to offer.

Our hotel was conveniently located right near the I-10 Freeway, allowing us to easily address prominent items on our itinerary that were in Orange County: specific landmarks  in our home town of Buena Park and neighboring towns of Fullerton and La Mirada.

We made two separate trips along the I-10 Freeway eastbound to the I-5 Freeway southbound in order to travel 35 miles and 35 years back in time to visit the neighborhood, Synagogue, schools and favorite foods of our childhood.

There is so much to share that I will separate it into  several posts so as not to overwhelm anybody with TMI, including myself.

First stop on our journey: Temple Beth Ohr in La Mirada, California

We were excited to attend Friday night Shabbat services at Temple Beth Ohr in La Mirada, the shul of our youth! We went to Religious school, became Bat Mitzvahs and were confirmed at this small Synagogue on the border of Southern California’s Los Angeles and Orange Counties. Both of us were active in the Temple youth group, BOTY, during our high school days and I’m pretty sure we each managed to aggravate a Hebrew school teacher or two on the small faculty there with our talkative tendencies.

Through the magic of Facebook, and the fact that I keep in touch with several of my former Hebrew school classmates, 5 members of the Confirmation Class of 1978 were also in attendance. We sat together during services, chanting the prayers and singing the songs to the familiar tunes of our kinderhood, uniting the past and present in mutual celebration.

Posing on confirmation day with my sisters

My official confirmation photo from 1978

At the Oneg we reminisced about Religious School teachers, youth group days and whipped out our cell phones to share photos of our own kids who are presently in college and high school and having their own B’nei Mitzvahs.

When I describe what it was like to grow up Jewish in Buena Park, California in the 1960’s and 1970’s I tell them that it is very similar to my own children’s experience in Kapolei, Hawaii. I was one of few Jewish kids in my school, along with Jon Sherman and Jason Oxman. There are only a few Jewish families on the west side of Oahu and significantly fewer in the state of Hawaii than in California then or now.

Temple Beth Ohr had a small congregation of about 200 families. Temple Emanu-El of Honolulu’s congregation is of similar size.

I would also tell you that the facilities are of similar dimension and that is where I would be wrong. You know how you remember things from your childhood as being much bigger and then when you go back to visit them you realize that your perspective has changed? That happened to me a few times on this trip. I was surprised at how in reality both the sanctuary and the social hall are much smaller than memory serves. They look the same, they are lovely, just smaller than I remember.

BOTY Shabbat service held before new sanctuary was built circa 1973

My youngest sister's official 1974 Confirmation photo in front of the stained glass window in the old sanctuary which is now the social hall

My oldest sister and I in front of the same stained glass window which is now in the new sanctuary.

Confirmation Class of 1978 Reunites: Lorraine Gershun, Jon Sherman, Suzanne Atlas Skorheim, Lisa Grossman Bloch, Stacey Ellig Campbell, Don Bloch

While we enjoyed the sumptuous Oneg sponsored by the Sisterhood, we got to talk to Ellie Ursis who was the youth group advisor when my sister was in high school, Rhonda Atlas who’s home I spent as much time in as my own hanging out with her daughter when I was a teenager, Harley Rockoff who was the Temple President when I was a kid and who’s son is still a friend of mine and Sandy Bloch who’s husband was also a Temple President of my childhood and son a classmate and Facebook friend.

Then benefits of small town Jewish life shined as 1978 classmates Lisa Grossman and Don Bloch come now as a unit, Mr. and Mrs. Bloch and the new Rabbi, Rabbi Goldfarb is cousins with one of our Temple Emanu-El congregants. Jewish Geography at its best.

It was truly a Shabbat Shalom and a great way to start a nice long weekend connecting with my sister and our past.

The Silent Passing of a Great Generation of GI’s

Since I did not grow up in Hawaii, my family and childhood friends live very away. Same for my husband. I am enamored of the idea of a lot of extended family living nearby: cousins to play with our kids, Aunties to pick them up from soccer practice, critical mass at the Seder table.

It would be wonderful if we lived near high school classmates and all our kids were in and out of each others’ backyards playing football and tag.

But it’s not like that. We only visit a few times a year and then we return to Kapolei. We have made Hawaii our home.

We’ve done okay when it comes to forging relationships that feel like family, making friends at work and at the kids’ schools, joining the local Jewish and Kapolei communities. We have an arsenal of reliable babysitters to watch, drive and even tutor our kids. We do alright having lived so far away from our original home towns for several decades.

What’s most uncomfortable living on an island in the middle of the Pacific is when a family member on the mainland is seriously ill or dies. When somebody gets sick I feel helpless that I cannot offer a hand or perform the mitzvah of bikur cholim, visiting the sick. The best I can do is say a blessing for good health, misheberach, and keep that person in my thoughts and prayers.

If somebody dies it is even harder. Not only is it difficult to travel at the last minute for a funeral, the fact that Jewish tradition demands the funeral be held so quickly makes it almost impossible. How can I get that far so fast? In contrast I’ve noticed that the Samoan culture holds the ceremony much later. They wait so family can arrive from far away. I’m not sure which I prefer.

When my Uncle Buddy passed away on January 6, I did not travel from Honolulu to Omaha for the memorial service and burial. I felt very sad when I learned that he was so sick and felt distraught when he died.

When I was discussing with my sister why I felt so particularly sad, she mentioned that it is partly becauses it is the passing of a generation. My friend Toby and David said, “We are the older ones now.”

I also think that these men like my uncle and my father were a humble generation of people who made great contributions. They were the children of immigrants who came to the U.S. to make a better life. They did. They were the first generation in our families to go to college. They had successful careers and raised wonderful families. They lived the American Dream in a meaningful way. I’m not sure if they are called the Great Generation, The Silent Generation or the GI Generation, but I kind of think they were all three.

I am sharing these links so that you can read recent articles about my Uncle Buddy, Leonard Goldstein, and his great contributions to the Omaha community, the Russian Jewish community and our family.

http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/omaha/obituary.aspx?page=lifestory&pid=155362875

http://www.jewishomaha.org/page.aspx?id=148828

http://www.omaha.com/article/20120108/NEWS01/701089935#.Twn8aUKalts.facebook

A word about my father

Theodore Leonard Gershun

 

We went to Friday night services at Honolulu’s Temple Emanu-El  so that I could say Kaddish for my father. I finally used one of the yartzeit candles that I bought last September for the anniversary of his death on January 2nd.

My dad passed away 22 years ago.

I am standing with my mom and sisters after his funeral

Before he died he knew that I was moving to Israel to live there for a while. What he never knew is that it turned out to be a short while and I soon moved to Hawaii. He never knew my life here. He never knew my first husband or my second (who often reminds me of him!) He never met any of his grandchildren in person. But he lived a full life until it was cut short by cancer.

I wasn’t with him the day that he died, but I was with my mother the days before and after. I’d always call her on January 2 and she and I would talk each year about the New Year’s Eve dinner we had together in between trips to the hospital  and the meeting with the staff at the mortuary to make the final arrangements.

We’d laugh remembering  how the guy at Forest Lawn suggested we inter my father’s ashes next to a huge statue of Jesus as a perfect spot and renew our satisfaction of our choice, The Wall of Knowledge, overlooking the freeway, assuring ourselves that he would be happy to overlook the “Road to Vegas,” one of his favorite getaways.

I missed talking about it with her this year. With my mother’s death so recent and that particular loss so poignant, I don’t talk or write about my dad very much. But he was a very interesting man.

My younger sister recently wrote a short biography of him for a family genealogy and I would like to share it here. I guess you could call her our guest blogger of the day. Thanks boo.

Theodore Leonard Gershun, b. February 19, 1924, d. January 2, 1990

Ted Gershun was born in Council Bluffs, Iowa, the second child of Selma and Ben Gershun (although his sibling Shirley often introduced herself as his younger sister). Ted believed strongly in education, the stock market, up-and-coming technology, his ability to beat the house at the dice tables in Las Vegas, and supporting the underdog. He trained as a bombardier (he was too short to be a pilot) in WWII and was sent to Japan but the war ended before he saw combat. He earned a Bachelor’s of Science degree in Mechanical Engineering from the State University of Iowa in 1948 and a Ph.D. in Mechanical Engineering from the University of Minnesota in 1955. Ted worked in the aerospace industry in Southern California for 20 years, most notably contributing to the development of the heat shield for the Apollo spacecraft. In the 1970s Ted returned to school and received a law degree from Western State University College of Law. After passing the California State Bar exam (first try!) in 1975, Ted bought a used pickup truck so he could haul around evidence if the need arose and he practiced small-town law for another 15 years.

Ted married Gloria Polsky in 1948, and in 1961 they relocated to Buena Park, CA  where they raised three daughters — Martha, Elizabeth (Betsy) (boo), and Lorraine (Lorrie) — in a house filled with the coolest toys (who else had a unicycle, a tandem bicycle, a pogo stick, AND stilts?), the complete volumes of the World Book Encyclopedia, and the biggest swing set in the neighborhood. Ted liked nothing better than to take his family to Shakey’s Ole Time Pizza Parlour for two large pizzas (one with sausage, one with portugese linguica) and to sing along (loudly) with the resident piano player. He always grilled a perfect steak and only liked iceberg lettuce and radishes in his salad (covered with bleu cheese dressing). Ted’s idea of a family vacation was to pack everyone into the car and drive five hours to Las Vegas, where he would gamble through the nights and use his winnings to support his wife’s and daughters’ daytime shopping excursions.

             

Ted loved gadgets and tools, manual or electronic. He owned an amazing set of slide rules and protractors, which he tried in vain to teach his young daughters how to use. But they were more interested in the first electronic calculator he brought home in the 1960s — it cost $99 and was the size of a box of Kleenex. (Oops! Make that a box of tissues; one of his pet peeves was using a brand name as a generic noun.) Ted had a quick (and slightly off-color) sense of humor which he shared with anyone who would laugh at his jokes. While he was not at all athletic, he was a strong swimmer and he was always willing to take a ride on the Matterhorn or the Mad Hatter’s Wild Teacups at Disneyland. Ted died in 1990 and his ashes are interred in a cemetery that overlooks the freeway that leads to Las Vegas.

We are eating right for the new year

I decided that I need to write one final blog for 2011. It has been a good year. As my friend Candy says, “We are blessed.”

Thank you to all of those who have clicked somewhere or another and found yourself reading about Being Jewish in Hawaii. I look forward to your comments in 2012 and  enjoying the conversation together.

While the East Coast is getting ready for the “Ball” to drop, we are just making dinner and settling down to an evening at home celebrating with our small family (extra small as teenager is not here.)

We invited friends to join us, but they declined. We understand. They also prefer to be at their own homes.  I don’t like to go out on New Year’s Eve. It is too dangerous. I am happy in my humble abode, safe and in comfortable clothes (notice the lack of photo.)

The star attraction of this evening is the food. Husband is at the barbecue and there will be meat to eat: chicken, ribs, and lamb (must pronounce the b.) If we don’t eat it all, no big deal, we can have it tomorrow for leftovers and you are invited (but please let us know that you are coming so we can make sure that we have enough paper plates.)

At Erev Shabbat services last night, Rabbi Schaktman mentioned recent efforts our congregation has embraced in regards to what I have heard in other arenas called “Food Justice.” We are translating it tonight by eating the peppers we grew in our yard and several other local products.

The meat we bought at Costco.

I am not in the habit of bragging, but I can’t help myself tonight. With our wonderful dinner we will be serving fresh, local, ripe Makaha Mangoes. It is the miracle of New Year’s Eve as even this transplant knows that mango season was over months ago.

But when I went to visit my friend Candy today to talk story for a bit and to share the holiday fudge that I only make once a year, along with her annual Chex mix that I love so much, she sent us home with several beautiful ripe and delicious mangoes.

Months ago, tweenager planted various seeds in the pots we have stored in the front yard. She has diligently watered them daily and the fruits of her labor became available this month. She was sure that she planted snow peas, but when we went to harvest it became apparent that they were peppers. Another miracle.

My husband picked a few of them today and mixed them in the sauce for the ribs. There will be mild, hot and fire hot on the dinner table tonight. Yum. Once again, if you will be joining us for leftovers tomorrow, just let us know.

On my way to Makaha I stopped at Tamura’s Super Market in Wai’anae to purchase some poke and fixings for salad. The line for poke was long, but worth it. We got ahi and tako poke.

As for the salad, I made sure to buy local. The Manoa lettuce was not cheap, but also worth it.

That’s about it: meat, mango, poke and salad.

I can’t imagine a better way to ring in the new year: safe at home eating right.

Happy New Year to you and your family with wishes for all good blessings.

Shaloha.

Happy Birthaversariakkah to me

When my husband suggested that we get married on my birthday I wasn’t sure why he thought it was a good idea. He joked that it was so he wouldn’t forget our anniversary, but even at that time I knew him well enough to know that it was not the case. I told him that as long as he did not forget my birthday, I was willing to go for it.

I still don’t know why he chose that date, but I’m not sorry. It was a great idea. I married him on my 45th birthday  and it is the best present I ever got. 2011 marked our fourth wedding anniversary, among other things.

I was born on December 26. This year, not only did we celebrate what we have come to call our Birthaversary, but we added in the 7th night of Chanukkah, making it a Birthaversariakkah.

There are two very special days on the calendar when I get to choose the family activity without absolutely no input from, or consideration of, anybody else: Mother’s Day and my Birthday.  Considering my usual Jewish Mother’s consideration of each family member in almost everything I do, I embrace these opportunities with abandon and glee and almost always choose a day at the beach or a hike. Luckily my family likes these activities too.

For this Birthaversariakkah I chose a hike. We went to Aiea Loop Trail where my husband proposed  5 years ago. This time we did the entire loop. Now I know why we usually turn around.

It took almost four hours to plod up and down the ridge, across the gulch and slosh through the 5 miles of muddy trail. But it  offers beautiful views of Pearl Harbor and the Tetsuo Harano tunnel on H3, the usual benefits of the great outdoors and nice memories of the day he stopped us at the side of the path and, with a rainbow in the background, asked me to marry him. We took a picture at the spot.

Once again, it was the perfect hike and the perfect day. The kids behaved particularly well, often running ahead and leaving us to enjoy each others’ company, appreciate some peace and quiet and sneak in an affectionate smooch here and there. We took some great photos. And between husband and teenager, I made it through  the extra slippery parts without falling.

We ended the day eating saimin at Forty Niner’s, another family favorite, and lit the candles at home that night.

Thank you for a very Happy Birthaversariakkah handsome Husband and loving family. It was a wonderful celebration.

Mele Kalikimakanukkah (Merry Christmas and Happy Chanukkah)

Everybody gets to celebrate today. Hallelujah!

My family is spending this Christmas morning delivering holiday meals for Lanakila Pacific’s Meals on Wheels program. Our Synagogue organizes an annual group of volunteers and we joined the team three years ago. We have made it a family tradition ever since.

And tonight we will celebrate the sixth night of Chanukkah with a holiday meal shared among friends at our home. I got up early to make chocolate fudge dreidles with the mold we got as a gift from my younger sister, boo. We’ll make brownies later with the other molds  she sent. Of course we will make latkes too.

Whenever I cook for the Jewish holidays it makes me think of my mom, especially when I make chopped liver. It was her specialty. She used a hand grinder to combine the liver and eggs and onions. When food processors debuted she continued to grind it by hand,  insisting that the new contraption made the liver to mushy. She put it in a circle mold and served it with mini pieces of rye bread. My dad loved it.

My mom made chopped liver for every holiday and I always helped her. Using a special meat grinder attachment to her Betty Crocker mixer, she would grind the liver and the eggs and the onions separately and mix them all together for the perfect blend and consistency. I remember one year she had me separate the egg yolks from the whites and we ground those separately so that when we combined it all together it wouldn’t be too “Yolky.”

I started making it about ten years ago for celebrations at our home in Hawaii. It connected us to her, living so far away, as she shared her recipe and techniques. It evoked vivid memories of childhood that I could share with my daughter. And now it brings wonderful memories of my mom (may she rest in peace) and makes me miss her very much.

The first time I made it, she sent me a meat grinder she  used post Betty Crocker mixer. I still use it every year. I’m willing to use a food processor for the potatoes for the latkes, but in honor of Gloria, not for the liver.

The biggest obstacles have been the shmaltz (chicken fat) and the liver. You can’t buy shmaltz in Hawaii. One year she came to visit around Chanukkah time and brought a small cooler on the plane with a jar of schmaltz just for me. Talk about the love of a Jewish Mother!

Since then, I have alternately made my own or just used Crisco.

My mom always swore that calf’s liver was the best choice for chopped liver. I have looked island wide for years, never found any and had to let chicken livers suffice. I ordered them fresh from Tamura Super Market in Wai’anae and they turned out just fine. This year I found calf liver in the commissary. Oh Happy Day.

On this Christmas day, I will grind the liver and eggs and onions as my mother has done before me.  We will fry latkes as Jews around the world have done for ages. We will start a new tradition of making chocolate dreidles for dessert.

And on this sixth night of Chanukkah, we will embrace our holiday traditions as we light the candles, say the blessings, share a meal and honor all of the miracles that people celebrate this season.

On the fourth night of Chanukkah…

Our family came together with the community at the Aloha Jewish Chapel at Joint Base Pearl Harbor…literally.

After several relaxing, peaceful, child free days, my husband picked up our younger girl from Camp Erdman in Mokuleia on the North Shore and drove straight to Pearl Harbor. I brought the teenager from hula practice and we reconvened as a family for Friday night services and Chanukkah celebration.

I met my husband the first time I attended the Aloha Jewish Chapel (AJC) almost nine years ago. My very long time friend Dan Bender who leads the services at the Chapel introduced us. Much of our early courtship was spent sitting side by side at Friday night services. We progressed to marriage from there.

Before I went to AJC I wasn’t  aware that there is a vibrant Jewish community in the military. I didn’t know much about the military in general. It was out of my realm of experience. I’ve learned a lot since then, considering I married a Jewish soldier and am now, among other things, an Army wife.

The Aloha Jewish Chapel was built in the 1970’s and is the first  free-standing Jewish chapel built by the United States government exclusively for Jewish worship. Besides being a special place in terms of history, we like it because our friend, Dan, leads the services.

I’ve known Dan since I was in college in L.A.. We both taught Hebrew at Temple Emanuel in Beverly Hills and found each other again after I moved to Hawaii over 20 years ago. We go way back.

Our family enjoys Friday night services at AJC and our local Temple Emanu-El, but more often find ourselves at Pearl Harbor due to the proximity to our house and not having to drive in Friday evening traffic to get there.

Last night was a nice community celebration. A mixed crowd of retired military, young active duty couples, various dependents and local guests came together for latkes, dreidle and song.

We were happy to see the Donlins there and I took a picture of the Kamehameha grads with my teenager happy that they are a great role model for my Jewaiian girl.

Rachel Haymer played the ukulele and led us as we sang, “Light One Candle,” “Rock of Ages” and “Not by Might.” Always one to appreciate the meaning in the moment, I was moved by the lyrics that pay tribute to the Maccabees and the “Pain they endured, when their right to exist was denied,” and the call to “Light one candle to bind us together with peace as the song in our heart.”

My spirit is renewed and refreshed by an evening with family and community in common celebration. Happy Hanukkah.

Chag Sameach from the North Shore

We tell our kids all the time, “Chanukkah is not a major holiday in the Jewish tradition. It’s only a festival.” It is a wonderful celebration of bravery and miracles and light, but it has nothing to do with presents. Americans added on that part because of Christmas.

Then we spend 8 nights lighting candles, playing dreidle, eating more than our share of fried food and giving them too many presents. I can’t help it. I love picking out presents for them.

This year we ended up sort of practicing what we preach. We were not together as a family for the first few nights. We have celebrated from different shores. We haven’t given them any presents…. yet.

Not only is this the holiday season, but it is also our wedding anniversary and my birthday. Yes, we got married on my birthday, December 26.

When Chanukkah falls during the later part of December, all of these celebrations converge. My husband and I like to celebrate what we call our “Birthaversary” each year by getting away alone together for a few days. Since we were expecting his mother to arrive next week, we celebrated early, thus missing the first few nights of Chanukkah with our daughters.

The younger girl has spent 5 glorious days at Camp Erdman in Mokuleia. We packed her and some dreidles and some chocolate coins and dropped her off last Sunday. Our teenager stayed with her  grandmother on the West Side enjoying family and going back and forth to wrestling practice in Kapalama.

Husband and I packed our own bags, plus an extra one filled with snacks and drinks and hit the road for the North Shore of Oahu to our favorite getaway destination, Turtle Bay Resort.

It has become a tradition for us to celebrate together in this beautiful vacation spot. Before we were married, he was deployed in Iraq from 2004-2006. He came to Hawaii to spend a week of his R & R leave with me at this very place. We have come back every year since that romantic week in 2005.

It was just as romantic this year. What I love about the Turtle Bay Resort is that it really feels like being away on an outer island without the hassle or expense of getting on a plane or renting a car.

We only spent a few days on the North Shore, but it was enough to relax, disconnect from the demands of daily life and reconnect with each other. I consider that a great way to celebrate a holiday and a minor miracle in and of itself.

We enjoyed the secluded beaches to the North of the resort, walking for a few miles along the coastline, dipping our feet in the water, picking up sea glass and coral and embracing the sun and salt air.

Wednesday morning greeted us with a double rainbow right outside our hotel room window. Talk about a blessing.

Add to that some time for my husband to surf in the challenging waves that side of the island has to offer, while I embraced a relaxing moment in the jaccuzzi, then topping it all off with a dazzling and romantic sunset moment, I have to say that it made for a wonderful holiday celebration.

We returned to Kapolei relaxed and refreshed and began to gather our children back at home for a family Chanukkah weekend (and a few presents.)

Tonight we will join some of the local Jewish community at Pearl Harbor’s Aloha  Jewish Chapel for Erev Shabbat and Chanukkah services, latkes and song. Others will celebrate at Honolulu’s Temple Emanu-El, but we can’t be at two places at once tonight.

Chag Sameach to you and your family and may it’s light and miracles brighten each of our lives on this 4th night of Chanukkah.

Previous Older Entries Next Newer Entries