Hawaii makes me believe in God. Something intangible about those islands, their coarse black lava juxtaposed against glorious green grass, towering palm trees, and the ever moving ocean, makes me feel free. There, I feel beautiful. I see that Geoff is truly perfect, and so are my kids. Everything I want, Hawaii provides.
A few years ago, we had the chance to move there. We did not take it. We did want to, and part of me will always regret not doing it. But in the end, I needed to keep Hawaii special. When I go there, I always want to see it with fresh eyes. I never want to get used to the feel of the breeze against my skin. I never want to stop being able to smell its sweet, earthy scent. I always want to feel the strain and the challenges its terrain presents. In those elements, the islands renew me, fuel me, help me grow.
When we return home, I can take up the daily tasks of living again, knowing that I have not left my perfect self behind, but given it air and water and all the elements that keep it whole. I have preserved it within my everyday self. At home, I can do what life calls on me to do, I can witness Geoff doing the same, push my kids to learn, struggle, and grow, without a doubt of why it is worthwhile. Our lives always remain rooted in imperfection, with the promise of an occasional green flash.