Pronounced “Truh PAN Yay,” it belongs to the French New Orleans Trepagniers. My husband, Mike, gave it to me in 1995. We have six children and own our own business. Most of our free time is consumed by our passions – food, travel, & paintball.
…Well, that last one is his, but I’m always down for the ride. If I have pursued one central thing throughout the course of my life it is this – the ride is where it is at. The journey is where knowledge is gained, and wisdom is discovered. I long to learn the next cool thing.
Most of our travel is in the United States. However, Mike and I met in the Navy and have both traveled outside the US in that capacity. I enjoy being abroad. I am always most excited about exploring food. Interestingly, people seem to be more inclined to conversation when interest is expressed in their culinary traditions. As such, I have found that people, while diverse and varied, aren’t really that different in the ways that matter. Humanity, in my opinion, is generally good and connected – regardless of the flag saluted.
Our family attended the December 2019 Georgia Southern University graduation in Statesboro. Watching the doctoral students graduate, many of them appearing be the same age as myself, sparked a fun conversation.
“Are those hoodies?” I leaned unto my husband and pointed at the colorful velvet & satin adornments.
“I think they are.”
“I want a hoodie.”
“I think I saw hoodies in the bookstore” one of my helpful children offer.
“Not that kind of hoodie. THAT kind of hoodie,” I point to the field, redirecting her attention.
“But you’ve never been to college,” another confused child offers.
“But I could go if I wanted to.”
“You’re going to go through all that school just for a hoodie?” her nose scrunches, obviously unconvinced.
“If she wanted to,” Mike answers before I can.
This exchange would be told various times over the next few days – mostly as a funny story about the silly 40 something who would entertain the idea of starting college as a freshman just to obtain a hoodie – a doctoral hood. The joking stopped when my husband looked at me with no humor and said, “you really should go. You’ve always wanted to, you never been able to, you can now.”
So, with help from some amazing administrators, I was fast tracked and entered the Spring 2020 semester as a freshman, barely making the first day of class. Because college is a passion project, I had the freedom to choose any program that appealed to me regardless of future professional application. I am a lover of words, stories, and people (and the Oxford Comma). English with a writing minor was the obvious choice.
While I cannot be certain (because I never have been before), I think I might like to be an academic when I grow up – or at least, while I am growing up.
Fall 2021
My father’s people call me Hapa Haoli. The words are Hawaiian; Hapa, meaning half, and Haoli meaning, white or mainlander. My mother is a beautiful Georgia Peach with the hair and freckles of the Irish and my dad is Hawaiian with salt water in his veins and sand in his hair. Both cultures are so rich with family tradition. So, you could say that I am a southern transplanted Hawaiian with a strong sense of family.
I am a southerner by heart, by speech, and by eats. There is nothing about the south I don’t like. From cornbread to grits and from hundred degree weather to 100 percent humidity. I have a drawl, I say ya’ll and a cook with so much ham hock and butter my vegetables are unhealthy. I say ma’am and sir and I can tell you, with pretty good accuracy, where yonder is. I love family reunions, weddings at the bride’s Grandma’s house, and azaleas in the springtime. I love the way southern people don’t move to fast, the way we take the time to say hello and smile. The way we take things easy – we really have no choice – most of the time it is too hot to do anything fast. Most of the colleges aren’t as big, but the football is great. Most of the doctor’s aren’t as rich, but he knows my history without my chart. My history, my momma’s, my two sisters my aunt, our neighbor – you get the point. I wouldn’t give up my Southern roots for all the tea in China – because we drink ours sweet and I don’t think they do.
I am Hawaiian by birth. My father comes from a family whose tree is planted firmly in the sands that are Hawaii. My father makes it a point to impress upon us the importance of the Hawaiian blood. Its traditions are rich and family important. I don’t have any Hawaiian friends. They are all family. They are not Mr. and Mrs. They are Auntie and Uncle.
In Hawaii, you are of the land or you are a visitor. There is no place in a Hawaiian’s heart for disrespect of the islands. The land is sacred. It is a part of the history of the people and as such has embedded upon its children the love and respect due to an honored parent. My father has done his best to keep traditions alive. It has been hard since we live so far away, but he has done well. My sisters and I can cook some of the more common dishes such as luau luau and lomi salmon, and we all dance the hula. The distance between the place I was born and the place I was raised is great, but they are both home.
My family is my rock. I believe that even without oxygen, my family could sustain me. The people in my tree define who I am. My mother has given me the courage to withstand all things. She has taught me the meaning of integrity and perseverance. She showed me how wisdom was important and that taking a stand was cool. She gave me the permission to open my mouth in protest as long as I remember that everyone deserves respect. My father gave me the backbone to follow through. He taught me that who you are is shown more by what you do than what you say, who you know or what you have. Together they showed me that nothing is more important than waking up every morning knowing you were loved unconditionally. I now have my own children to love unconditionally.
My two oldest girls are like sun up and sun down – both beautiful and glorious yet on completely opposite ends of the earth. My littles are not quite so little anymore. 11 months apart in age, they could have been born on different planets. Watching these creatures go from my womb to the world has taught me more about following the journey of life than any other thing I could imagine. The past year has blessed me with bonus babies. A stunning, dramatic girl, and a full of life, big hearted boy. If you had told me a mother could love babies not from her body as much as she did those that do, I may have thought that a huge feat. Not anymore. The joy these six children bring to my life is to much for words. They feed me life. As much as parents are supposed to teach their children, they have taught me more. They have showed me that most answers are simple and most hurts can be cured by a hug and an ice cream. I now know that folded clothes, if left unattended for a second, will need to be folded again and dirt has radar. I have also learned that their best chance of becoming wonderful adults involves being around wonderful adults. In this they have shown me the kind of person I strive to be.
The lover of my soul, the other half created just for me, has given me a part in a love story that would rival any in the history of love stories. I had long given up on the idea that a love like this was in the cards for me. I have rarely been this wrong. In his arms I have learned the true meaning of strength, forgiveness, honesty, partnership, selflessness, and forever.
I have the best friends. They are like a bouquet of flowers – each different and colorful and bringing incredible life into my world. I love them dearly. They are more than friends, they are fellow journeyers. They walk with me down my life’s path and allow me to experience theirs.
My personality evolves every day. With each new experience, my repertoire changes. I grow, learn, and increase myself. But who I am, where I am from and the things I hold important are as certain as Georgia Heat, Hawaiian Surf, and the roots that have been nurtured by each.
Updated 12/10/2017
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