One day when I was about 4 years old my family drove north to spend a weekend at Asti. Asti is a small hamlet in California’s wine country. In 1902 my great grandfather was a wine maker there and he built a large home for his family next to the winery where he worked. His home was called Villa Buen Retiro – house of good rest. It is a place where we can see, hear and feel our family history.

While taking a walk, my dad and I spotted an acorn that had planted itself not too far from a large black oak tree. Dad called it a volunteer because it fell naturally and found a place to grow on it’s own. We placed rocks around it and made sure it was watered. He said that was now my tree. I had my very own tree!

You might not think having your own tree is a big deal but it was to me. You see, I am the youngest in my family and it always seemed like I was being left out or left behind. But now I had something no one else had, my very own tree. 🙂

Growing up, we visited Asti several times each year. As soon as the car stopped the first thing I would do was hop out and run to my tree and say hi. I watched it grow and grew up as well. I loved my tree.

Over the years dad and I would take walks and he would point out all of the original trees on the property. He looked for the “volunteers” that would in time take their place. If there weren’t any, he would “draft” one and plant it. To keep the tradition going, eventually each member of the family got a tree.

Well, many years have passed and while visiting last Christmas I noticed the oak that dropped the acorn that grew into my tree had fallen. It’s trunk rings told us it was well over 150 years old. This fall we visited again. Dad is now nearly 87 and in declining health. It was a struggle but we managed to get to my tree to take this picture.

Dad, thank you for everything, and especially for my tree. It is a lasting memory of you at Asti that will stand tall for generations. I promise to visit my tree every time we go to Asti and I’ll make sure for each tree that falls there is at least one to replace it. The tradition will continue. Life goes on…

I love you dad.

***I wrote this October 16, 2009.  Dad died 2 weeks later.

Approaching 50 is not easy although I think I’m doing better than when I turned 40. That was a birthday I’d like to forget. My eyes were no longer 20/20, clerks and waiters were calling me ma’am (I really hate that) and AARP sent me an invitation! Now I wear reading classes without shame, drive around in my mid life crisis woody PT Cruiser and have a son ready to go off to college. Today I took a step towards enjoying life and looking forward instead of backwards.

Seven years ago we moved from Kaimuki to Hawaii Kai. It’s a great community with good restaurants, shopping centers, and a giant volcanic cinder cone called Koko Head. The summit is just over 1200 ft above sea level. There is a trail up to the top. It follows what’s left of an old military rail line. To reach the top there are approximately 1100 “steps” to climb. This hike has been on my bucket list for a while now and today was the day to do it.

I took a vacation day and headed to the park. At about 7:15 am I started to climb. My friend advised me to take it slow and enjoy the views, which I did. I also called Gordon and even answered a couple of emails along the way. There were lots of nice people going up and down. Just before the really steep section, I met a nice woman who was visiting from L.A. We stopped and chatted (translate: rested) for awhile. We gave each other encouragement as the climb got tougher.

We reached the summit and celebrated. Well, she celebrated; I looked at the steps and wondered how I was ever going to get down!

After taking a few pictures and spending some quiet time taking in the incredible views it was time to head down. That proved easier than expected but was tough on the knees. I reached the bottom just as it started to rain. My legs felt like rubber but my spirit was soaring. I did it!

I know for many people this hike is easy. There were people running up and down and my friend Ray tells me he can get to the top in 24 minutes! It took me around 40 minutes just to get to the top! I’m not a very good hiker. My team at work (most of them anyway) LOVES the outdoors. They hike, bike, rock climb, swim, do triathlons. That might have been me along time ago but not anymore so for me this was a real accomplishment. It wasn’t easy but very rewarding. It gave me a confidence boost. Now I am thinking – what’s next? Oh, maybe I better not say that. If my teammates read this I shudder at what they might suggest!

50 is just a number and the best is yet to come!

May 2010