Living through your child and when it ends...

Watching Bryce hula dance, I admire.  I swoon through the sharpness in a move, the grace and the chanting. For every move, I feel the move. For every mele (song), my heart sings and dances. It is through him, I am dancing, through him I'm singing and chanting. For every wrong move, I get worked up and disappointed because it should’ve been done better or correctly. During performances, I am the one that's nervous. I am the one hoping and praying in dancing Auana or Kahiko, that there be no mistakes.

And there is basketball.  I scream with excitement, when he makes a basket or blocks a shot.  I holler when there's a mistake.  I yell out encouragement not only to him but to the rest of the team for a good defense, shot or rebound.  Do I feel the spirit of aloha in basketball? No.  Do I swoon at the sight of his reverse shot?No, but I get blown away instead. Do I feel disappointed when he doesn't rebound the ball?  Yes I do, but it's not the same.

His love for sports (especially basketball)  made it harder for me to get him to go to hula class.  It was getting tougher to get him to practice his dances. He'd rather be outside throwing free throws.  What used to be practicing the moves to a chant  or a mele was now the flick and roll of a ball off his hands or dribbling a ball around the house.  At age 4 1/2, dancing hula to him was new and exciting. He loved dancing!   It was never an issue to go to class.  At age 11, all the sudden,  hula became a difficult activity to attend. He didn't want to go as much.  Once he got to class, the mood usually changed.

It was Kumu who could tell for awhile now that he wasn't dancing his heart out. It was one evening when Kumu pointed it out.  "Do you want to dance or not dance?"  Truthfully,  it wasn't pointed out that 'nicely'.  Some things that were said stung like salt in the wound.    The look on Bryce's face told me clearly how he felt. How can he not want to dance anymore?  Six years of hula dancing taught me the appreciation of the dance and oli (chant). Six years of it taught me the culture, the language and the art. I learned that many things created in hawaiian culture were originally handmade and we were taught by Kumu (teacher) to learn the same way. I learned to make Bryce's costumes that included (but not limited to) ti leaves skirts, different types of kupe’e (wristlets) with ti leaves, fresh plumeria leis and different ti leaf leis. With every twist, or every flower inserted and or every knot, the attention to detail was necessary to make beautiful implements/costumes. It reflected the hard work and effort when you proudly got to wear what you made. Most importantly, it represented the hula halau (school) that you belonged to. Didn't he feel that way? I looked at him and that look told me he was done.

It was heartbreaking.  A part of me wanted to hang on and hope it was just temporary. I actually understood how he truly felt.  Part of me was so torn but part of me told me to let go. We haven't been back to say goodbye and to thank Kumu formally. He hasn't said anything since that night he told Kumu he doesn't think he could dance anymore.  When I asked Bryce about stopping by for a visit and to thank Kumu, his answer, "Not yet."  I don't know exactly what he's thinking but, when I brought it up, his facial expression tells me what happened the last night of hula is still mentally painful. All I can do is step back and not push it on him. Sooner or later, he'll get over it, right?  It's all part of growing up.

For now, I cheer him on during the games. As I watch those muscular legs lift him up during a jump ball, I know it's from doing hela, ku'i, and kaholos that helped make them strong.  And when there's 5 seconds left on the clock, he takes the ball out, throws the ball pass half court, his teammate gets the ball and makes a basket, those arms of  Bryce have great strength because of all those kaholos, uwehe and from using implements in oli (chanting).  There may not be anymore meles to sing or chant to, no more dancing to kahiko or auana, no more making of leis, kupe'e, or ti leaf skirts, but there's Bryce with 6 years of hula dancing that has helped him develop strong legs, arms and muscles.  It's has helped him become the basketball player that he is today. Although I miss my hula ohana, watching everyone dance, seeing Kumu and hearing him sing, I know we'll meet again someday. For now,  Mahalo Kumu for 6 years of your inspiration and teaching Bryce how to dance.  A hui hou!