A place of peace

When I was 18, I was rescued. Thanks in great part to the supplication of my sweet Grandma, I found respite. I was on a path that was not bright, and desperately needed space and time from my home. I had no direction and no motivation to do anything.

I spent four months on the island of Hawaii under the watchful and loving eyes of my aunt and uncle. I did not make my time there easy on them, but it was a turning point in my life. I learned the true meaning of earning a living. I learned what work ethic was. It was the time I learned about sacrifices and the selfish life I'd lived until that point. It was where I learned about education, and the first time I truly believed that I had the potential to receive a higher education. I gained tools to better my life, and the perspective to realize that bettering my own life only betters the lives of my children, who are yet to be born.

This is the view off my uncle's balcony; my peaceful place. The place I could sit and listen to the birds and the water. I could watch the ships come into the bay and would make up stories about the people disembarking. It seemed like none of the cares of the world could touch me here, which is good, because I desperately needed a place of respite.

It was here that I first realized the ocean calls to me. I feel a connection with the water, a connection that transcends any other I've felt. A connection that I am convinced generations of my ancestors also felt. I have always had a wandering spirit. I love to wander, to travel, to see things. Most of the reason is because I'm nosy. I like to know what's going on in this fascinating world around me. But I also believe it's part of my heritage. No matter where my wanderings take me, I am always drawn to the water. My dad was always wandering. He could never stay put. He traveled the world because we share the same curiosity. He saw amazing things, but always managed to stay close to the water.

Today in church, we learned about blessings, and how not all the blessings we receive are for our own benefit or because of our own righteousness, but rather for the sake of others. My dad was blessed in his many wanderings, I believe for his kids sake. How many countless generations of my ancestors were also blessed for my sake? They learned of the gospel and often did not have long to reap its blessings on this earth, but they laid the foundation for me to follow.

I am convinced that the time I spent at my uncle's house was more for the sake of my future children than myself. I want their lives to be more full and better than mine. That is the purpose of family, that each generation should improve upon the last. It is for the children I will one day have that I try. It is because of the generations before me that I have that opportunity.