“We’re not in charge anymore” is the phrase I find myself repeating over and over again to my husband, Bill. The first time I heard myself say that to him was when he complained about waiting for our son and his partner to choose a date in September to move some of our furniture from the three-bedroom townhouse in ‘Ahuimanu to the newly renovated one-bedroom unit downstairs in Kailua, where we will live out the rest of our lives. They chose the Labor Day holiday.
I should explain that Bill suffered a stroke the summer of 2020 during the pandemic. I realize now that Bill’s stroke was a mild one. He only spent one week at Kaiser. I was not allowed to visit. I remember being allowed to see him on the hospital grounds before he was transported by ambulance to the rehab facility in Nu‘uanu. He spent four weeks there and during that whole time, I never got to see him because of COVID-19.
The first time I saw him there was when I picked him up to bring him home to ‘Ahuimanu. At home a physical therapist worked with him enough so that he was only on a walker for one week, graduating to a cane after that. He’s been walking with the cane ever since then. So it’s been hard for Bill to realize that he is not able to do a lot of what he was able to do before his stroke, such as lifting heavy furniture and moving heavy items easily.
After my sister died last year and her partner cleared out of the space downstairs in the house we’d built in Kailua, we had the space renovated with new kitchen cabinets, new appliances, a walk-in shower (replacing the whirlpool tub), new flooring and bright off-white paint on all the interior walls. After the house was finished in 2006, we lived upstairs until 2015, but arthritis in my right knee made it impossible for us to stay there. That’s when we moved into our daughter’s townhouse in ‘Ahuimanu and she moved upstairs in the Kailua house. We’ve been helping her with her mortgage ever since.
Now it’s time for us to move back to Kailua so we can be taken care of in our declining years.
As I said, we’re not in charge anymore. The kids are in charge now even, though the kids are in their 50s now. When the kids were little/younger, we were in charge. We placed them in our neighborhood schools, paid for their hula and piano lessons, drove them to and from practice sessions, and when it was time after their elementary years, helped get them into Kamehameha and paid their tuition. We did much the same with drama, hula and band practice sessions there. We paid tuition for college and helped with car insurance.
Not it’s their turn to be in charge. If that means waiting until they have time in their busy schedules to move furniture or appliances, so be it. Complaining won’t help, patience will.
The more my husband complains, the more often I have to remind him and myself. We’re not in charge anymore.
It meant we had to wait weeks — or a whole month — until we finally moved into the downstairs space the first week in October — where we’re still not in charge.
Bill power-washed the area on the lānai and wanted to move the fridge from ‘Ahuimanu to be plugged in there for his beer and my daughter’s wine weeks ago, but it had to wait until she and her husband had time last weekend.
Because, we’re not in charge anymore.
Anita ‘Ilima Stern is a retired elementary school teacher and writer who taught hula for 33 years. Her students liked learning hula and chant from her and appreciated the positive feedback they received. She lives in Kailua on O‘ahu.
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