Your passion- Where does it come from?

Green Green grass of Samoa, taken this morning on the way to work

Every now and then, you meet someone who asks questions you don't have the answer to.  The intriguing part is, that someone has never crossed your path  or know you personally.  I have met some very interesting people in my life.  Whenever I travel, especially on long haul flights, I try and get acquainted with those sitting next to me. You never know when you'll need help from a stranger.  I have learned that single,young woman traveling alone can be the target of many dangerous, twisted,vile and evil things in this world, specifically one that is well traveled and whose a bit too friendly with strangers sometimes.  Additionally, one has been given a brilliant mind and a sound discernment to know right from wrong and the ability to CHOOSE who you speak to, befriend and share thoughts with on these voyages.

I am grateful to my papa that out of his six (yes 6) daughters, I'm the one he's least worried about when I am out there in the big big world. Maybe that's what he likes me to think. I used to picture his white hair growing whiter because of all my adventures! When I was away from home and went a month without calling home (was a bit too busy with studying and living?), I finally called him to say that I'm well, I'm still alive and setting out to make a future for myself.  After sharing about the pumpkins,watermelons,cows,EX-150,our motorbikes,Jesus, my mother and all the green -farm-things-he lives for.  He said to me 

"Enid, you are like the grass! I never worry when I don't hear from you in a while, because I know you are like the grass.  Wherever you travel, study or live, unlike your other shy sisters (I have two), you easily make friends, you talk to people, you are vocal about the things you are passionate about, you go to church and surround yourself with people who can help you and so you are like the grass. You make up your mind, put your roots down and grow! "

At first I chuckled to myself thinking, 'Wow papa, vao (grass) is the hardest thing to get rid of". No matter how many times we kill, destroy,mow etc,  grass grows back more green and more leafy each time.   Resilient. One word which sums up the character of grass.  Unlike other plants in our gardens/farms, grass is the least needy plant, we don't need to water, shelter, harvest,protect or even decorate it.  For some countries, grass is a luxury, they do all those for their lawns! Imagine the amount of water it takes to keep all those lawns green just to complement the white two-story house, white picket fence and a dog named Spot.  Water that could be bottled and shipped to Africa for those dying without it. Then again, that's not how the world works, those who hold the power and wealth will it to their benefit. It's a rarity to find a rich man who just donates for the sake of donating.

Anyway, I do hope I become more like grass, the good parts.  Even when we have the greatest odds against us, we fall,we break, we get up, pick up the pieces and try again, we never give up. So when one bright mind asked me last week, where my passions come from, this is my written word. I said some answer that popped into mind at  that instant, I can't remember now (choose to forget).

I did not wake up one day and decided to be the person that I am today.  It took years of discipline and hardship.  It took years of molding, training and experiencing life itself. Still, those things do not entirely answer the question.  My passion comes from within translating to around. I could be sentimental and say it comes from above, entirely true but still not a holistic answer.  My passion for our people, for my beloved Samoa, well---comes from Samoa! It comes from seeing, experiencing, talking,listening, feeling, tasting Samoa.  How can I not be? I'm made of the stuff!My passion for family, comes from being in one. It comes from concentrated, living, flowing blood that is indeed thicker than water.  It comes from the willingness and genuine desire for all of them to do well in their lives, to experience the blessings that God has given to each and everyone of us. The blessings that I've received.  We just need to tap into his favour, his faithfulness and an ounce of his thoughts.  My passions are specific to each part of my life, whether related to aiga (family), God, youth, work, side projects, education, writing, etc.  These passions, come from a place that is far beyond anything that we can think of or imagine. I'd like to think that when passions for life are awakened, God sparks them in us, the ignition actually come from our Maker in the form of dreams, visions, thoughts, people around us and nature. When are passions are true, pure and our intentions are to fulfill our purpose, the result will be like grass.  They are contagious, they grow and become resilient in the face of opposition, jealousy, hatred etc. They will ignite other passions and like dominoes they will fall over and become one big flame that will not be easily put out by the mere, temporary, fickle things of this life.  One has to tune their hearts to this ignition because it is a wonderful thing to be taken over by your passions especially if the motive is right. 

I leave you now with this 

Some people regard discipline as a chore. For me, it is a kind of order that sets me free to fly~ Julie Andrews.

 So my fellow passionate people, if you have no passion in life, you will be lost and will easily lose sight of what your path should be. Discover it and once you do, don't ever let go because that passion will take you to places and paths you have never dreamed of, well and above your wildest imaginations.

Grandpa and the bees

Today is a beautiful and sad day for my family and those who are close to us.  A paradox for two reasons. One. we are truly joyous that my grandfather Norman Nauer also known as Adolf Nauer is no longer suffering from physical pains and secondly we are sad at the same time that he will never be physically present with us again.  On Monday, we celebrated a milestone in his life, as he was surrounded by his family and grandchildren to celebrate his 79th birthday. Last night he was taken to the hospital suffering from many different and serious health issues, he went to heaven this morning around 6.30.

My grandfather was a funny soul.  He had the greatest skin and very beautiful grayish/blue eyes, not hazel,not brown, no entirely blue but a mixture of these colours. It was probably the reason why many women fell for the man. He had many girlfriends but my grandmother captured his heart right to his last days. Why is it a little hard to talk about him in the past tense? He was just here last night? As I was woken up by a bizarre dream this morning, I said a small prayer because I knew from looking at him last night, his time to go wasn't too far away. As I said my farewells, while he laid on his hospital bed,with needles, IV,oxygen masks, I kissed him on the cheek,forehead and whispered in his ear:

"Pa, we are all here now, we know you are suffering and you can let go.  Heaven is waiting for you, grandma is there too'.

I felt a sense of peace come over me, I didn't cry, instead I just prayed for his suffering to end.  My grandma, passed away in 1997 and two years after, my grandfather in his deep sadness and grief went though great depression. As a result, he had a major stroke. He then went to live in New Zealand for a few years and was brought back to be with us as his health was deteriorating and we did not want to put him in a nursing home.  When he came back, he no longer talked and he had to be assisted while eating, bathing,standing up and all the other things that we normally do without thinking in our daily lives. I was convinced that he could walk and talk again. He was the biggest rugby fanatic I know and sometimes, he did talk about rugby in the early hours of the morning when I came to check on him.  I told him that he was too funny, pretending that he could not talk, I wonder if because the people who came to see him were not his favourite and he just didn't want to talk to them haha. He would talk about grandma, his rugby days, his Marist days, his girlfriends in New Zealand during the war.  He lived a very colourful life.  He always had a smile on his face and he worked hard.

Out of all the stories I can tell you about him, one makes me laugh each time I reminisce.  When I was around 5, my sisters, mum and I went to visit him at his place.  When we arrived, he had just gotten back from his plantation wearing his lopsided hat, his ie lavalava, his smoke between his teeth and his winking eyes.  He sat us on the bench and started telling stories, all the while yelling at my grandma to fetch us some tea,ice cream and sasalapa, yes all in that order. My grandfather always put on a show for his visitors. He would command grandma around to do this and that but we all knew that she was the boss of him.  Back to the story, he was telling us that bees live in trees and that they were very very smart insects.  They make honey and sweet nectar, we must treat them with respect because they were the key to beautiful flowers.  The most important thing to remember about bees is that they can be caught and they are delicious!  We were all in awe out of nowhere, presented an unmoving bee (lifeless/dead), threw it in his mouth and started chewing!Joanne, Louisa and I looked at each other and with O as mouths just flabbergasted.  Suffice to say that the very next day, Louisa my 4 year old sister at the time, actually ate a bee following pa's bee show! We found out years later that grandpa pretended to throw the bee in his mouth, threw it pass his cheek and just pretended to chew. Lesson learned, bees are important but imitating grandpa's shows not so much, much to mum's horror! I think after that, mum made sure we had spaces between visits.

I didn't write this blog so a thousand people will +1 my blog or that a hundred condolences will swarm my Facebook page. I wrote this in remembrance of him, his never-ending love for the one woman in his life, his dedication to his family,so that young people will remember to respect and love their elders because that is where blessings come from.  We are the legacy that they leave behind  Their stories and characteristics live on through us.  When they no longer remember who you are and are just not there anymore, remember how they carried us as babies, how they saved us from all the potential hidings because we were once mischievous children, how they came to our prize givings in shiny puletasis (my grandma) and bright mismatched red lisp stick and choo susu-ing at the top of their lungs when we get our prizes at school.  Remember to share about them to our own children when so that they will understand who their elders are/were, why they will in the future behave in funny or random ways because let's face it, we do come from some very funny characters. 

Today, we celebrate the life my grandfather lived, simple and fulfilling.  He had many peles (favourites) in the family.  For every new grandchild he held for the first time, he would kiss them at least 10 times, starting from the lips right down to the smooth bottom.  I used to say 'yuk' when he did that, smooth newborn bums are probably more clean than the bleached hospital wards they were born in.  I hope no one wears black during his family service, instead we should have a big party to celebrate his trip home.  For his family service, we should wear different colours to illustrate that he lived a great life, all 79 years of it regardless of the painful years he endured so that he can stay with us a while longer.  Thank you grandpa for teaching us how to love our family including the criminals, the nutcases, the impatient, the deluded and the flower puff Nauers. Above all, thank you for showing us that the world is not so round as the scientists claim, the world is lopsided like the hat you wear and the cheeky smile behind your blue/gray eyes. See you soon.