A little window to my soul

For my family :) Auntie Gale especially

Ever since I was a young girl I have visited my grandparents house during the summer for a week or two. I remember the long hot drive to hood canal. I remember the sign leading up to Colony Surf, and I remember their house; small and moveable :)

I used to take daily trips down to the "clubhouse" and play on the playground there. Some days I would take a swim in the pool, the same pool my dad decided to let go of me for the first time and I swam on my own. Some days I would venture into the inside of the clubhouse and see teenagers playing ping pong and kissing in the corners in which they thought they were hidden. I only hoped one day to be like them, free and experienced.

My grandparents house holds a lot of memories to me. . . watching Shirly Temple and eating bowls of strawberries and whip cream, reading harry potter books until midnight (which seemed so late back then), and playing in my grandparents motor home that sat in the covered area above the rose garden.

My grandparents have always loved their motorhomes, I've seen them go through a couple different ones, and I can't even imagine all the memories they have made in them over the years. As far as the memories I made of my own, i remember trips to Canada to visit their friends. Oh that place was beautiful, loads of open bright green fields loaded with flowers, a gorgeous house that had several stories, sparkling water, and a cute step stone path to the lady's workshop. She was the most brilliant painter I had ever seen, I only hoped one day to be able to turn something so ordinary into a beautiful masterpiece. I also remember trips to campgrounds and beaches where we would sit around the campfire roasting marshmallows and telling scary stories about murders and theives (which I later learned actually happend in my family history). I was so young, naive, and innocent. I miss that part of me some days, but others I want to stray as far as possible away from it. I guess that is just how growing up is.

There are two memories however that the motor home and their house shared. And that is the Hawaiian Rules. In my room in the motor home and in the house there was a beautiful little plaque with a set of rules I was told to follow by my grandfather. I remember the plaque had a rainbow in the background and a set of rules that went like this:

Never judge a day by the weather.

The best things in life aren't things.

Tell the truth, there is less to remember.

Speak softly, and wear a loud shirt.

Goals are relative, the unamed arrow never misses.

He who dies with the most toys, still dies.

Age is relative, when you are over the hill...you pick up speed.

There are two ways to be rich; make more, or desire less.

Beauty is internal, looks mean nothing.

and

No rain - No rainbows.

Now that at least five years have past since I last spent my summers with my grandparents I fianlly realized something. That I took for granted the time I spent there in my youth. They really have lived a wonderful life and made the best of every situation that comes their way. They have traveled to more places than I will probably ever make it to see, and they have always followed by those rules.

I think I will pay more close attention to those sweet and simple rules of life. I will live my life to the fullest, and seize the day a bit more than I ever have before, and most of all I will realize that if you don't go through a rain, you will never see the wonders of a rainbow.