Love...

I like to reflect upon Life's encounters and lessons, and write them down as well. They allow me to look back and remember, and renew lessons, after the details have long faded. Some encounters seem altruistic and self-serving, but I do not share for self-aggrandizement, but simply to allow others to reaffirm, reflect, learn and otherwise take what they may from it, if anything at all. I know that I learn from so many others, and remain inspired as well. All to Ke Akua always.

Yesterday, The Office of Hawaiian Affairs (OHA) was busy preparing for a majority of staff to work from home and implementing the technology to allow that to happen, without adversely impacting agency efficacy, which was a monumental task. 

I was so proud to see everyone working so hard to help each other and effectuate this need in a time of crisis, from leadership, to support services, all the way to frontline workers such as myself and beloved colleagues. Our overall community is being challenged, impacted and stressed to the limits, especially the Native Hawaiian community, whom we serve the most.

Like myself, kanaka suffer from inordinate rates of chronic disease like heart disease, diabetes, cancers and other life-threatening and life-shortening illnesses. This makes the remote possibility, or likely possibility, depending upon what news you believe, that contracting COVID-19, with such pre-existing and underlying health conditions and comorbidity factors, will become a likely death sentence for many of our people in fragile condition already, myself included.

In the organized chaos of effectively closing down our office, pursuant to mandatory directives, we continued our work the best we could while external factors and conditions seemed to change almost hourly.

We received multiple desperate phone calls, like several from an elderly beneficiary who I have known for over twenty-years. Always a strong fierce advocate for her community and people, as long a I have known her, she had fallen on hard times in the past few years and ended up living on the streets for a long time.

She finally was able to secure subsidized housing and stabilize somewhat. However, she had fallen behind on her rent for months and was in danger of being evicted Through our front desk receptionist fielding the calls, and then speaking with her, I was able to contact her case manager, and determine what the issue with rent was, and through the help of another Native Hawaiian serving agency, who received a grant from OHA, a commitment to cover four months of rent in arrears was obtained and fortunately she continues to have a roof over her head.

It was a portion of her Social Security that goes to rent and I had a long hard talk with her to prioritize her rent each month and budget the best she can, because she almost lost her shelter at a critical time in her life.

I had to tell her that having a place to stay, to shelter, to heal, is critical right now and it must come first in her spending habits which could be tightened up from what I was told. I shared with her that her life depends upon it, and sadly, people that she and I jointly knew, and Loved, may be losing their lives in this crisis. She sobered up quickly. One small crisis averted, out of countless for the day, based upon a small group of interconnected and caring people working together.  I celebrate the small wins.

After working on other kuleana, and attending meetings here and there to digest the latest organizational plans and implementation, I headed over to the Long's Drugs next to our office to grab some items before heading home.

The store was full of people milling around, searching high and low, for items they needed. There was quite a population of houseless individuals inside and outside of the store since the Institute for Human Services or IHS, which houses many homeless and houseless individuals was across the street.

The surrounding Iwilei area contains dozens and dozens of makeshift shelters out of tents, blue and grey tarps, shopping carts and wooden pallets. Segments of our community suffering and exposed to everything hazardous in life.

I quickly grabbed what I needed, a handful of bar soaps and body washes for home, and then got in line awaiting my turn.

I could see a disheveled local part-Hawaiian man with sunburnt skin, in his early 40s I would guess, furtively glancing back at me from time to time, as he stood a few people in front of me in line. He had a small rolling backpack which led me to believe he is living on the street. When our eyes met, I just smiled at him.

The next thing I knew, he slowly approached me and said softly, "You work for OHA?"

"Yes..." I responded realizing that I was wearing my OHA shirt with our logo and my identification badge around my neck as well.

He then said with a little more excitement and volume in his voice, "You're OHA?"

"Yes" I said while smiling again.

I actually braced myself for a barrage of insults, jokes, criticism or even angry jabs as I occasionally receive when out and about wearing my work clothes. Unfortunately, to some of our beneficiaries, OHA has become a four-letter word. 

I have said this in the past openly, and I know that we can be our own worst enemies at times through our own agency actions and sensational newspaper headlines. We gain trust, then tarnish it. Gain it, then tarnish it. I have seen the cycles over the past 15 years of working there and serving our people.

Our kuleana is vast however, as we are responsible for improving the lives of our Hawaiian people in the areas of Native Rights, Land, Culture, Health, Housing, Human Services, Education, Economic Development and Governance. Massive responsibilities. 

However, there is no other place I would rather work because I witness the Love, Passion and Caring, daily.

Surprisingly, there was no angry barrage. The man, still somewhat unsure and soft-spoken, stared down at the ground for a lingering moment, then looked back up at me, and asked, "So you work at OHA, can you buy one noodle package for me? Just pay for one. It is a dollar..." as he pointed to the conveyor belt where about seven packages of instant ramen sat in a mix-matched assortment of packages and bowls, probably the last he could find on the shelves.

My heart sunk.

I noticed he had opened up his hand clutched around a bunch of one-dollar bills and a few coins mixed in. The cashier was finishing up with the customer in front of us, while listening intently to our conversation as she glanced over from time-to-time. I could also feel the eyes and ears of other people behind us in line observingly intently.

"Of course brother" I responded, as I put my items on the conveyor belt. Thinking quickly about how much cash I had in my wallet, as both of my cards are maxed out, I quickly added up things in my head to make sure I had enough, and then told him, "Brother, I will cover all your items for you..."

He looked over at me again, somewhat astonished, and said, "Really? You would do that for me?"

"Of course..." I said. 

"Wow...thank you..." he then said as he extended his hand out to shake mine and asked, "What is your name?"

I looked at his outstretched hand and I could feel the tension from the cashier as she stood there staring at the both of us. I could feel people behind me as well still watching and quietly listening. Was this going to be the "handshake of death" for me?

Despite my initial reluctance, my Heart quickly said to grasp his hand, so I did. We shook heartedly while I said, "My name is Kai."

"Kai" he said, as he strained to look down at my hanging badge with my name and photo.

"Kai, my name is Joshua" he said, while I added, "Joshua, nice to meet you brother."

The cashier began scanning his ramen bowls and packages. I asked Joshua if he needed anything else. 

"Really?" he asked. 

"Yes, really..." I said. 

"Can I get a little shaker of pepper for my noodles? It is only about a dollar?" he asked.

"Of course..." I responded as he darted excitedly away to retrieve his noodle seasoning. While he was momentarily away, I walked a few steps to the anti-bacterial wipes at the front of the store which I had used to wipe my basket handle, and wiped both of my hands quickly and surreptitiously. When I turned around, the cashier gave me that "all-knowing" grin, and I returned it. 

Joshua then quickly returned and gave his little bottle to the cashier just in time for her to scan and ring up the total. I paid and made sure he had a paper bag too to hold his food. I then moved my soaps and items up for the cashier. 

Joshua, grabbed his bag, grabbed his rolling backpack, and then turned to me, smiling, and said, "Thank you so very much Kai... I am grateful brother..." as he prepared to depart the store.

I smiled back and said, "You are very welcome brother!" and then mouthed quietly to him, "Wait for me outside. I will be right there."

I paid for my items, put them in my bag, thanked the cashier, who thanked me simultaneously, with that all-knowing smile, as she glanced out the door at Joshua waiting outside. 

I then dug deep into my wallet where I had some emergency bills stashed, and pulled them out discreetly and then exited the store. Joshua was standing on the side of the entrance, as an older Security Guard stood not to far from him, eyeing him intently, up and down.

He had a smile from ear-to-ear and exclaimed, "Thank you. again so very much! Thank you!"

I then reached out my hand and opened my upturned palm with the bills in it. It was only a twenty and a ten because that is all I had. 

Joshua looked down, and his mouth was agape, and then he looked back up at me, and said, "Seriously. For me?"

"Yes brother..." I said, as he slowly reached over and gingerly took the bills into his hand. He then looked up at me, and I could see a slight welling up of tears in his eyes.

"I know it is hard now, but keep the faith..." I said, as I moved in and gave him a big hug. He squeezed me so hard, like he hadn't had a hug in years.

I then said, "Please use it for food. Necessities. Harder times are coming quickly."

He promised he would. 

I then parted and glanced back at Joshua, who was still standing there, smiling and waving at me. I said, "I love you brother...hang in there..."

He smiled at yelled loudly, "I love you too Kai!" as I was getting into my car. 

The security guard was still standing there, still watching, trying to make sense of what just transpired.

As I drove out, Joshua was still watching me, smiling and waving. I rolled down my window as I drove past him to get to the parking lot exit and paused, telling him through the window, "I will see you again Joshua. Hang in there brother. God Bless..."

"God Bless you brother Kai! I will see you again..." Joshua exclaimed excitedly, as a warm all-enveloping feeling embraced my entire body and endorphins released into my body like a Spiritual High. A quick Healing for me, just enough to keep me here and alive.

Sadly, I don't know if Joshua and I will ever seen each other again. So much uncertainty in this Life right now. But if not in this Life, we shall see each other in the Afterlife. This I Know and Believe.

If I quickly calculate how much money I have shared with others who are in need, or less fortunate, or who didn't qualify for agency emergency assistance over the years, it is easily somewhere between $18,000 to $20,000, in a quick estimate, because I honestly don't keep track of it. 

My family suffers for it. Only one car. Not a single trip to Disneyland, Vegas or anywhere on the continent for my wife and boys, ever, boys who are already adults. Lots of financial sacrifices. But that is how I roll in this Life. It is my choice. My cross to bear. I hope to make it up to them one day.

This is my Tithe, not for the church, but for the people. 

I know my human contact with Joshua was risky, especially in these uncertain, and even deadly times, especially with my underlying health challenges. I barely survived in 2012 on five Life-Support machines, including a ventilator, with my failing heart, kidneys and fluid-filled lungs. Elliott can still describe the machine that took my blood and oxygenated it, and pumped it back into my body, as he stood there with his younger brother, in horror, as I laid there in a coma.

But I also realized that Joshua needed a firm handshake. He needed a firm loving hug even more. As did I as well. 

We all will die one day. We usually can't decide where we will die. Or how we will die. Or what we will die of. 

But we can decide one thing, why we die. Because it is about how we Live. For Love. 

And my Hope is that OHA will continue to be a four-letter word for many of our people. But that word will soon be Pono. Hope. Love...