Sunday was another Father’s Day. I kept busy in the garden and really didn’t think about what day it was until late afternoon. From a neighbor’s yard I got a whiff of steaks on the barbecue.
I left Hawaii at the end of 1980 and said goodbye to my parents at the airport. They had followed me over to the islands after my twins were born. They came specifically to help care for my sons, but it didn’t take long for them to adapt to and embrace the island way of life.
Mom and Dad had senior citizen passes that entitled them to ride the buses for free. My father liked to do the grocery shopping and the cooking. He took the bus downtown to the fish market, the butcher shop and to produce stands to search out the freshest foods. He cooked stews, then put them in the blender to make homemade baby food. When a doctor told my father he needed more exercise, he got up early and walked eight miles before doing the shopping.
On their “days off,” as my parents liked to call weekends, they rode the bus from one end of Oahu to the other. Sometimes they went to the other side of the island just to have a picnic at the beach or to try a restaurant someone had recommended.