I met him around February or so. He was this tall, dark and handsome character that I pegged for a Harley man, mysterious in nature, walking in the restaurant. When I peered out the window, I didn't notice a bike out there. Wow. I could hear my usual, 'here comes a customer' banter in my head. 'Put on your customer service smile and get the grill going! The customer expects fast and fresh!
So I smiled. Hmm.. maybe he's one of those old school Puerto Rican cowboy types. Who knows?
"What can I get for you today?" I asked the man with my Friday's best superficial smile. All I could think of was getting out and relaxing with the kids. Maybe a board game, who knows?
He answers, I confirm the order asking about his cappuccino preference. "How sweet do you like it? What sweetener do you prefer?" After dealing with his indecisiveness for a few minutes, I offered him my private stash of raw Hawaiian sugar. Ahh... relief! A satisfied customer. 'Now get his capp out and his food started, girl! I'm not sure he looks so well. He might be diabetic,' I said to myself. I tend to coach myself through everything I do. Not sure why. I don't think I'm crazy until I answer, so why worry about that?
I proceed to take out the order and offer him the cable remote. He declines, indicating that he watches too much tv. 'Wow. He must be alone, without much family or friends.' I've taken care of many people like this before. 'Don't get wrapped up into the customers, girl! Just do your job and get out already.
As I came out to check on him, we had a brief conversation, and my being business minded thought I may have picked up a regular. I had a few of them. They loved to come in for their coffee and chat for awhile. Oh, God love 'em! I can't stand most people, but how I truly enjoy making someone's day when they need it!
The mysterious man finished his meal and the light conversation we shared, tipped me and left.
'Nice tip! Now close the drawer and go home, girl!'
After awhile, I noticed that he spontaneously showed up once or twice a week. Same lunch, different day. Everybody recognized him as my customer, saying things like, "Here comes your BLT, girl!" We always had a good laugh when someone saw him coming, because I'd start the BLT as soon as I saw the car park. Some time after seeing him so often, I discovered that he had a 2008 Mustang: black on black. I'm not sure why he stood out to me, but he was an easy man for me to read. The type I was used to dealing with, back home.
Simple, dark, and very private. Not a hard man to please, in my book. Not an easy temper to settle, either. Very old school, he was.
I soon discovered that he was a Vietnam Vet, as suspected, then from looking at his name when he signed his credit card slip, I also saw that he was Hawaiian, just like me. Outsdie of my family, I had very limited contact with other Hawaiians. There aren't very many on the east coast. How exciting!
We would chat his lunches away, when he was feeling light hearted. The dancing, living life as a performer, differences in food. I was careful not to ask too many questions, as he striked me as a man who didn't like questions. That turned out to be one of many good calls in my book. Man, it was easy dodging this man's bullets! I could read him and we shared a deep cultural connection. I was spiritually transported to heaven.
Deeper than ever before, I craved to be in my land with my people. I have grown weary of being different. I just want to be with my kind and share the connection. Oh, how this feels so comforting!
Cancer? Stage 2? Sick after a successful removal? Hmm... 'Wow..' I thought to myself. This can't be serious. He could turn out to be a good mentor, and he's alone in Florida with a condition so serious? Wow. When I found this out, I gave him my information and told him to call if he ever needed anything. He disappeared for a month.
On the day that he came back, my cafe was filled with patrons from my church.
Everything was under control and I was in a happy place. When I saw his figure through the door, I jumped over the counter and ran out to him. I was so glad he was alive! For a whole month, I prayed and worried about this man. I didn't know where he lived to check on him. Everybody looked up to see what the excitement was, and we prayed over him.
A lady from my church who is lonely decided to sit with him. She had given me a ticket to a comedy show earlier that day, and gave him the other as we stood at the counter talking.
He came back to the cafe on the day of the show, and we made plans to meet outside of the comedy club together.
He waited outside, then opened the door for me like a perfect gentleman. He smiled as I walked through, and I noticed that he had really polished up that day. 'Uh-oh... I think this man is mistaking things!' I immediately got nervous. I just kept telling myself that neither one of us had gotten out in awhile, so I should just enjoy the evening. Maybe I was a little extreme to think that he was being anything outside of an old school gentleman. The show was great, we had many laughs. He paid for dinner and I think we double tipped the waitress, but she was having a bad night, so she needed that. It was a cool drizzle when we left the club, and he walked me to my car in the dark. In the middle of saying goodnight, he hungrily grabbed me and kissed me, as though he didn't eat dinner. Then he began choking.
Immediately searching the car for the nebulizer, I came up with only an inhaler, that would have to suffice for the moment. 'Oh my gosh! This is really freaky!' I thought.
I knew he was not safe to be alone. He had already told me in the past, about his daughter. He also said many times that he was divorced! How adorable. God bless this man! I had wanted to follow him home, but had to get straight back to pick up the kids.
I called him after they were in the car. He was very happy. Happier than I ever heard his voice before. Once I was home, we hung up so I could settle the kids, and I sat back to soak in all that had happened. I wasn't prepared for anything that had happened. But the comics were funny, dinner was great, overall the night went well.
The next day, one of my foster families came to visit for a week. I had the following day off, so I left like I had work and took the nebulizer to him. He made pork and black eye peas for me. He was so embarrassed at his house and proud of his cooking! He had begun to call me to talk and I called him to check on him. Soon, we had begun to run errands together. We went grocery shopping together, and once I learned his food habits well enough, I began to shop on my own for him. I would pick up things as they ran out, and ask him if there was anything else. This pleased him greatly. He rarely ran out of something that he would need. I would do my best to track his low count medications and prompt him to call it in. Taking care of him was pretty easy. The hard part was manipulating my schedules with the kids to be there when he wanted. In the end, he understood my responsibilities. I greatly appreciated that.
We often spent nights reading the Bible and talking of culture. Those were such good times! He would show me pictures of his family and tell me of island stories. He would speak of his tough guy days and tell me wild stories of Vietnam. I probably should have written as time went by, but I was usually too busy playing online games with him during late night. This was fun for us, when I had to stay home. It also let me know that he was okay.
As time went on, he got closer to the kids, stood by Phoenix (my youngest son) side when he was diagnosed with cancer, but Kalani was getting sicker as Phoenix was getting better.
It was on my birthday the 3rd of September 2011 that I had to work a double to cater a wedding. Kalani wanted me by his side that day, but matters at work were pressing and my boss was my landlord. Tough situation.
At around 2pm Kalani tried to see me at work. He never made it. Instead, I found him half way in a ditch on the side of the road at about 2:25pm. I just had this gut instinct and told my boss I was going home to change for the wedding. I thought I saw that black mustang in the swamp grass on the side of the road. It was him.
I refused to take him to the VA because I have this thing that they seem to kill all the sick veterans and not help those who are a mess on the streets. Instead, I took him to a better hospital that was 2 hours closer, covered by his insurance and not affiliated with the VA in any way. On my hard working, 34th birthday, the doctors at Peace River Medical Center pulled me outside his ER unit and bid me condolences. My heart shattered.
I still had to change for the wedding, so I called my kids and had them ride their bikes to Kalani's house while I took him home. They stayed with him until the wedding was over and we all stayed the night.
My next step was the single most awkward and painful phone call I have ever had to make in my entire life. I had to call his daughter and arrange for her to come take Kalani home. She and I shared some beautiful moments despite the situation.
My 5 year old Phoenix was just declared a cancer survivor only a few weeks ago. On his 6th birthday, the 28th of September 2011, Kalani passed in Vegas with his daughter by his side. Of his last words to me were that he finally made peace with those he had hurt in the past and he thanked me for bringing him closer to Jesus.
Looking back on the man I had gotten to know, he was proud of his only daughter and loved his family deeply. He was a traveler, exploring the world and enjoying every minute of life. He was a musician and loved to play his guitar in the evening. He saw the world for what it was and went from there. His time spent in Vietnam was pretty easygoing for him. He enjoyed telling all his stories, good and bad.
I learned a lot from Kalani. He brought me closer to my own identity, my own self. He showed me what I was truly made of by constantly pushing my limits. He was a great coach and a great cheerleader. During the season he was in my life, I knew who I was and what I was meant to do. He prepared me for what was to come. He trained me for my future kuleana.
Mahalo Ke Akua
After awhile, I noticed that he spontaneously showed up once or twice a week. Same lunch, different day. Everybody recognized him as my customer, saying things like, "Here comes your BLT, girl!" We always had a good laugh when someone saw him coming, because I'd start the BLT as soon as I saw the car park. Some time after seeing him so often, I discovered that he had a 2008 Mustang: black on black. I'm not sure why he stood out to me, but he was an easy man for me to read. The type I was used to dealing with, back home.
Simple, dark, and very private. Not a hard man to please, in my book. Not an easy temper to settle, either. Very old school, he was.
I soon discovered that he was a Vietnam Vet, as suspected, then from looking at his name when he signed his credit card slip, I also saw that he was Hawaiian, just like me. Outsdie of my family, I had very limited contact with other Hawaiians. There aren't very many on the east coast. How exciting!
We would chat his lunches away, when he was feeling light hearted. The dancing, living life as a performer, differences in food. I was careful not to ask too many questions, as he striked me as a man who didn't like questions. That turned out to be one of many good calls in my book. Man, it was easy dodging this man's bullets! I could read him and we shared a deep cultural connection. I was spiritually transported to heaven.
Deeper than ever before, I craved to be in my land with my people. I have grown weary of being different. I just want to be with my kind and share the connection. Oh, how this feels so comforting!
Cancer? Stage 2? Sick after a successful removal? Hmm... 'Wow..' I thought to myself. This can't be serious. He could turn out to be a good mentor, and he's alone in Florida with a condition so serious? Wow. When I found this out, I gave him my information and told him to call if he ever needed anything. He disappeared for a month.
On the day that he came back, my cafe was filled with patrons from my church.
Everything was under control and I was in a happy place. When I saw his figure through the door, I jumped over the counter and ran out to him. I was so glad he was alive! For a whole month, I prayed and worried about this man. I didn't know where he lived to check on him. Everybody looked up to see what the excitement was, and we prayed over him.
A lady from my church who is lonely decided to sit with him. She had given me a ticket to a comedy show earlier that day, and gave him the other as we stood at the counter talking.
He waited outside, then opened the door for me like a perfect gentleman. He smiled as I walked through, and I noticed that he had really polished up that day. 'Uh-oh... I think this man is mistaking things!' I immediately got nervous. I just kept telling myself that neither one of us had gotten out in awhile, so I should just enjoy the evening. Maybe I was a little extreme to think that he was being anything outside of an old school gentleman. The show was great, we had many laughs. He paid for dinner and I think we double tipped the waitress, but she was having a bad night, so she needed that. It was a cool drizzle when we left the club, and he walked me to my car in the dark. In the middle of saying goodnight, he hungrily grabbed me and kissed me, as though he didn't eat dinner. Then he began choking.
Immediately searching the car for the nebulizer, I came up with only an inhaler, that would have to suffice for the moment. 'Oh my gosh! This is really freaky!' I thought.
I knew he was not safe to be alone. He had already told me in the past, about his daughter. He also said many times that he was divorced! How adorable. God bless this man! I had wanted to follow him home, but had to get straight back to pick up the kids.
I called him after they were in the car. He was very happy. Happier than I ever heard his voice before. Once I was home, we hung up so I could settle the kids, and I sat back to soak in all that had happened. I wasn't prepared for anything that had happened. But the comics were funny, dinner was great, overall the night went well.
The next day, one of my foster families came to visit for a week. I had the following day off, so I left like I had work and took the nebulizer to him. He made pork and black eye peas for me. He was so embarrassed at his house and proud of his cooking! He had begun to call me to talk and I called him to check on him. Soon, we had begun to run errands together. We went grocery shopping together, and once I learned his food habits well enough, I began to shop on my own for him. I would pick up things as they ran out, and ask him if there was anything else. This pleased him greatly. He rarely ran out of something that he would need. I would do my best to track his low count medications and prompt him to call it in. Taking care of him was pretty easy. The hard part was manipulating my schedules with the kids to be there when he wanted. In the end, he understood my responsibilities. I greatly appreciated that.
We often spent nights reading the Bible and talking of culture. Those were such good times! He would show me pictures of his family and tell me of island stories. He would speak of his tough guy days and tell me wild stories of Vietnam. I probably should have written as time went by, but I was usually too busy playing online games with him during late night. This was fun for us, when I had to stay home. It also let me know that he was okay.
As time went on, he got closer to the kids, stood by Phoenix (my youngest son) side when he was diagnosed with cancer, but Kalani was getting sicker as Phoenix was getting better.
It was on my birthday the 3rd of September 2011 that I had to work a double to cater a wedding. Kalani wanted me by his side that day, but matters at work were pressing and my boss was my landlord. Tough situation.
At around 2pm Kalani tried to see me at work. He never made it. Instead, I found him half way in a ditch on the side of the road at about 2:25pm. I just had this gut instinct and told my boss I was going home to change for the wedding. I thought I saw that black mustang in the swamp grass on the side of the road. It was him.
I refused to take him to the VA because I have this thing that they seem to kill all the sick veterans and not help those who are a mess on the streets. Instead, I took him to a better hospital that was 2 hours closer, covered by his insurance and not affiliated with the VA in any way. On my hard working, 34th birthday, the doctors at Peace River Medical Center pulled me outside his ER unit and bid me condolences. My heart shattered.
I still had to change for the wedding, so I called my kids and had them ride their bikes to Kalani's house while I took him home. They stayed with him until the wedding was over and we all stayed the night.
My next step was the single most awkward and painful phone call I have ever had to make in my entire life. I had to call his daughter and arrange for her to come take Kalani home. She and I shared some beautiful moments despite the situation.
My 5 year old Phoenix was just declared a cancer survivor only a few weeks ago. On his 6th birthday, the 28th of September 2011, Kalani passed in Vegas with his daughter by his side. Of his last words to me were that he finally made peace with those he had hurt in the past and he thanked me for bringing him closer to Jesus.
Looking back on the man I had gotten to know, he was proud of his only daughter and loved his family deeply. He was a traveler, exploring the world and enjoying every minute of life. He was a musician and loved to play his guitar in the evening. He saw the world for what it was and went from there. His time spent in Vietnam was pretty easygoing for him. He enjoyed telling all his stories, good and bad.
I learned a lot from Kalani. He brought me closer to my own identity, my own self. He showed me what I was truly made of by constantly pushing my limits. He was a great coach and a great cheerleader. During the season he was in my life, I knew who I was and what I was meant to do. He prepared me for what was to come. He trained me for my future kuleana.
Mahalo Ke Akua
