Irmalee Louise Jones Walker

 

 

I first met my grandma before I was old enough to start forming memories. She and my auntie Janice flew out to Hilo, Hawai'i when I was just about two weeks old. She loved telling me the story again and again about how during their stay, at dinner the entertainment host asked for the oldest person in the room to come up to the stage. Then when he asked for the youngest, Janice stood and lifted me up and said, "Here she is!"

Looking back, I think the reason my grandma loved telling me that story so much is because that was the moment that Irmalee Louise Jones Walker - already a devoted wife and mother of four, a retired career woman and former mayor, a true friend and dear sister, a community servant and all around beautiful class act of a lade - that was the moment she became what she always made me to feel, was the proudest role of her life - a grandma! You see, from the moment she flew across an ocean 30 years ago to welcome her first grandchild to the world, to her move to Bishop after my cousin Ali was born, to her final trip to Hawai'i for my sister's doctoral graduation - she devoted the later part of her life to making sure us granddaughters knew just how much we were loved.

She and my grandpa came to Kona every spring during my childhood for us to spend Spring Break with them. They taught us how to swim, how to play cribbage, gin, hearts, poker... "Ante and you won't be so rich," my grandpa would always say.

My sister and I were fortunate enough to also spend summers in California with our grandparents, first in Bellflower, then later in Bishop. It was in Bishop that at the age of 14 my grandma took me for my first driving lesson. "Just don't tell your grandpa," she said. "This is against the law."

My grandmother taught us how to cook, how to sew, how to play the piano. I distinctly remember the day she sat us down at the dining room table and spent an hour showing us which utensils went where and the proper way to pass the serving plates.

More significantly though, she and my grandpa taught us the importance of an education, the importance of independently following your dreams, and most of all, the importance of family. When I look around at my sister and cousin, my dad and my aunties, not only have we all graduated from college, traveled the world, and went off to do whatever called each of us, but through it all we have remained a unit. We laugh together, cry together, get in incredible arguments and debates like only a Walker knows how - yet still, always a family. And for that I am eternally grateful to both my grandmother and grandfather.

Today, we honor Irmalee Louise Jones Walker and the legacy she left behind. Where ever you are, grandma, you should be very proud. I know I am.

(from Memorial Service April 11, 2015)

take me back...

 

waikiki. wailoa. puueo. mauna kea. kona. HILO.

--

the colors, the breeze, the swaying of the trees. the peace, the ease, and the warmth of the water. i know home will always be there. and i know i will always go back.

hunting eggs in joshua tree...

because sometimes there are just no words. hope you bunnies had a happy easter. 

xo

so buddha walks into a bar...

sweet title. and what a great concept, applying Buddhist teachings to modern, everyday life. and what a clever cover! i've been reading this book for over a week now and i only just now noticed Buddha sitting among the top shelf bottles. yup, exactly why i need this practice. really seeing what is in front of me, becoming more mindful, more aware of my present surroundings, that is what i am working towards. it is what we should all be working towards, allowing us to open our hearts and become in tune with our natural goodness. in turn we will be able to lead more full and truly happy lives.

first goal: mediate. 

just 10 minutes a day. 

mind focused completely on the breath. 

air. 

water. 

waves. 

surfing...

no, breath!

when ones mind slips from the present, 

a slope slippery as the moss beneath

a waterfall,

"just say 'thinking'" 

and return 

to the breath. 

acknowledge your thoughts,  

they are neither good nor bad,  

then just return 

to the inhale. 

exhale. 

inhale. 

exhale...breathe.

--

i'll keep you posted. xo

letting go

Last week I met with my mentors, Sojourner and Ann. It was the first time the three of us hung out all together. We sat with tea and talked. The conversation shifted naturally like a branch in an easy wind, from art to current events to common friends. Then as random as the breeze, we began talking about the things we clutter. I learned Sojourner, like myself, held on to many things, namely old letters and books upon books of writings and journals. Things, that in a fire, would be the first thing you would rescue. We spoke about the inability to let these sentimental items go, yet also the necessity in doing just that once they are lost.

The thought provoking topic was followed, just days later, by the loss of my iPhone. This also meant the loss of priceless pictures of my birthday camping trip, a disco dance party, and all the fun and memories in between. Then I realized, this was yet another reminder from the universe that I needed to learn to let go. I was reminded that all things change, shift, and eventually go away; on eternities time table, lasting as long as a snowflake in the sun...

Snowflake in the Sun
Undying love no doubt expires
like food and life itself.
Starry eyes go dim, the heart retires
to forever’s failing health.

Money grows then falls from trees
to an ever increasing cluster
of limp and dying leaves
whose green have lost their luster.

For there is no certainty
in life, we must concede.
Everlasting impermanence is all we can foresee.

--

Remembering and accepting the ultimate impermanence of all things makes it easier to let go. Whether an iPhone or old letters, an old love or insecurities of a new love, once we realize letting go is something we must all learn to do, there is freedom in the release...

Untitled
Can holding on ever be
greater than letting go?
I fear my grip is slipping,
yet I have no fear.
Freedom is found in the release.
Free as the bird in flight,
dusting the space ever so slightly
above the sea,
completely confident in its direction.
How can one be so certain of a route
they cannot see?
Maybe I could fly blindly into forever
if there were no such thing as time.
Who says timing 
is everything?
 
Timing did not create 
the moon rises and sunsets.
WE created time to make sense
of that simple, senseless beauty.
Where is time?
When is it time?
What is time?!
Nothing but a barrier to be broken.
Let go of the tortures of the tic tocs
and feel yourself float towards infinity,
nearing the Heron’s horizon.

Holding on only works
once you let go.  
You will not say goodbye,
you will open the door
to the inevitable unknown.
Not “in time”
time = now.

--

So whatever you may be holding on to, just know that it is ok to let go. 

xo 

not beautiful or remarkable things...just things

my mentor sent me a writing prompt a few weeks ago: write down 6 things you see each day, then at the end of one week, compose a poem out of two of those things. the lesson being that poets, and artists in general, should strive to be "more attuned to the physical world and to find concrete things that possess a special vibrancy" (Linda Gregg, "The Art of Finding"), then incorporate these things into their craft.

over the course of a couple weeks, here is what i came up with:

july 11:

earrings
freeway signs
glass jar
turquoise
tea
sunflower

july 25: 

tests
stripes
my reflection
bangle
laughing baby
toes

july 26:

man sitting on sidewalk
new haircut
stress
style
leaves
relief

so i only did it on three of the days, but i did manage to use all the words in my newest attempt and literary creativity...

the things i see each day

as i drive along the highway,
i roll the window down to feel
the breeze of time passing.
a wild wind whips through
and my earrings sing a song
of pennies dropping into a glass jar.
freeway signs point to places
i'll never see,
fields of sunflowers
i'll never know.
white clouds paint stripes across a turquoise sky
as i cease to cease.

my reflection in the windshield,
a loose reminder
of what once was--
a laughing baby with squishy toes
turned adolescent with body woes.

and now i fight the tests of my twenties
by speeding faster
in search of relief.
i chase change with a new style,
new haircut, new shoes
a new bangle filled with jewels.
beautiful objects,
permanent as leaves on a growing tree.

when i finally exit
this whirlwind
wind of a road,
in search of a cure to my saturated stress,
i see a man sitting on the sidewalk.
living in his permanent present,
his sign reads:
a quarter for a cup of tea

...

interesting how the little things we see each day, ultimately paint the big picture of our world. what did you see today?

freedom writer.

in my wildest dreams i would travel the world
one thousand times over.
i would paint the pastures of switzerland and sing
the songs of africa;
write a poem for every brick
of china's great wall.
i would be free
to fly.

but never did i dream that freedom's ride
began on a bus.
for in my dreams we all dance
together to the chime of india's
bollywood beat.
our vibrant colors melt together
and flow
down the mississippi,

where blood once flowed.

the road alongside it
paved by bus riders,
paying the price
so we could be free.

free to ride
free to dream our wildest dreams
and wake
to live them.

some day i will walk
from the sands of egypt,
to the shores of hawai'i
and write in stone along the way:
freedom—
and equality—
for all
is no longer just a dream.

::

last week, while mindlessly surfing our umpteen cable channels, i stumbled upon a PBS broadcast American Experience: Freedom Riders. since then i've tried to make an ongoing conscious effort to refocus my spirit from frivolous worries to gratitude for things we haven't always had: love. equality. freedom.

this february, i remember these things. i celebrate african american history and those who stood up against the face of hatred—in peace. may we honor the freedom riders and those like them. may we seek universal equality. and choose love > hate. always.