Starting Over

I didn’t see it coming… being fired from the very job that led me to move back to Lahaina after years of living on the North shore and Upcountry Maui… the shock and surprise of again being thrust into the unknown without a plan or a direction.

Again, the fear is deafening, causing ringing in my ears that just won’t stop. Daytime it’s a low level hum that blends with birds and rain and wind. But the night time resounds with an electric pulse, a refrigerator too old for its hardware or crickets on crack.

Unlike that fire that took everything, this sudden change leaves less carnage in its wake. I am more physically comfortable as I contemplate my next career move at 55. I am not stuttering, like I was 2 days after the fire. I never had a stutter in my life, until I drove around the backside of the West Maui mountains and returned to a civilization un-charred by the flames of neglect and protest. Once high alert dropped from my brow, my brain collapsed, speech became difficult and structuring a fluid sentence or gracefully speaking someone’s name - a distant memory.

But the same questions arise; How will I afford to eat? How can I pay off my debt without filing for bankruptcy? Where will I live? Because I can’t sleep in my car. It is the same car that got me away from the fire and it’s tiny. Two seats that don’t recline. When the convertible top is down, there is only enough room in the trunk for Pickleball paddles, sunhat, bathing suit, snorkel & mask, towel, collapsable camping chair and a couple of things from the farmers market. If I do a Costco run, it all goes in the passenger seat & floor, because the trunk is full of, well, you know.

Moving to Lahaina the 2nd time in my Pontiac Solstice was very similar to the first, when I had shipped a maroon convertible Chrysler LaBaron over from Oahu, with a white top. It had back seats and more trunk space, but lacked consistent drivability. Most times, I found myself riding a bicycle to the harbor to crew for Club Lanai.

Back then, I lived at the crossroads of Prison & Waine’e Street, a mere quarter mile or so from Alantown on Panaewa street, where I moved to January 2023.

Lahaina was the same beautiful busy town in 1992 as it was in 2023. Tons of art galleries, jewelry stores, ice cream shops, souvenir shops, and lots of places to eat, both big chain restaurants and locally owned. The Hard Rock had become Tommy Bahamas, Moose McGillicuddy’s was now the Dirty Monkey, an upstairs tourist/local hangout with decent bar fare, band & DJ stage, a dirty dance floor and dirty bathrooms too small to pee & do a bump in at the same time. David Paul’s ‘Lahaina Grill’ had dropped his name and kept the doors open. Kids still boogie boarded where drunken tourists tripped over rocks as they entered the tiny beach next to Cheese Burger in Paradise, a minute walk from my new home. This is the same beach where one of my housemates spent the night in its black churning waters, after abandoning his car on Front street to avoid been burnt alive. Those little rocks cut at his feet all night, after the wind-churned water pulled his shoes off. He grabbed at passing bodies being sucked out to sea during the inferno. He watched Lahaina burn from the same shallow water that bounced light from the sunset and kissed many glowing cheeks the evening before. For many it became their grave. But he survived to tell the tale. So did I, and again I am recreating my life anew. The same company that had taken such good care of me after the fire, has thrown me back into the flames of the unknown. So I find myself with empty days to discover who I am and what really interests me. Writing, singing, playing Pickleball, taking workshops, all the things I had time for when I was recovering from the fire, but was too traumatized to do with any consistency. But PTSD was no match for Pickleball! Once I got back out on the courts, it helped me to socialize, get in shape, experience the feelings of accomplishment and watch myself improve in unexpected ways. And the same is happening again.

I wish more people would get out there and learn to play, instead of complaining about how much noise the plastic balls make while bouncing on the previously unused tennis courts or converted driveways in their neighborhoods.

I was already in EMDR therapy before the fire happened, and it became my saving grace as I experienced survivor guilt, uncontrollable crying daily and outbursts of anger at myself or others. I thought I was going crazy. My memory was severely handicapped, and I had a personal preview of how Alzheimer’s effects people’s minds and moods. I am still in therapy today, mostly brain-spotting and RTT. So once again, it has been a saving grace after my job/career loss, that was in place before the tragic event happened.

At this point, you may be wondering what caused my job loss, as well as what really caused those fires in Lahaina?

First off, both were out of my control, as it seems fate or destiny has other plans for me. My job was in sales, and if I don’t hit certain targets, my position with the company is terminated. The month of June was a turning point, as I had been given my final warning. I had 6 sales, which was great! But when 2 cancelled due to those people fearing the loss of their own jobs, I lost mine.

Now, what caused the fires in Lahaina? Was it winds from a hurricane 500 miles away? I can tell you, these winds spun in circles, twisted and arc’d. They were unreal, and some say artificially created. When I first moved to Lahaina in 1992, I experienced hurricane Inki, which was passing by a bit more closely. When we began to brace for impact at Whaler’s Village in Ka’anapali, with margarita’s in hand, Inki turned on a dime and diverted its rage directly over Kauai. As a member of the boating community, I watched a beautiful 100ft sailboat break loose off it’s mooring, and capsize while the captain jumped clear to swim to safety. I can tell you those winds never got as nutty as they were that day in Lahaina Aug 8, 2023.

So was this 2nd passing hurricane like the first time I experienced a passing hurricane on Maui? Absolutlely NOT. NO margaritas in hand.