The Hana Chronicles: Month 8, Day 11

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September 1, 2026- Hana made an assisted walk from the recliner in the living room to the sofa in the family room-a distance of about 75 feet. We took three short breaks, of less than a minute, along the way. She decided when the breaks would happen and when the walk would resume. As she gets taller, it is easier on my back.

My granddaughter is also answering “Yeh”, when asked if she feels good about something. “No” will come soon enough, I suppose. She continues to be very chatty, especially with her mother. The other side is that she is starting to understand when Yunhee has to tend to other things, and Hana is getting better at playing by herself.

We noticed, this evening, that she is outgrowing her little bath tub. It will soon be time to use a larger vessel, that will have to be fit inside the master bath tub, rather than inside the kitchen sink. This growth spurt is amazing-and it won’t be the last.

HANA’S NOTE- I am starting to really understand Papa’s and Daddy’s language. They call it English. I can make sense of Mama’s language, just a little. She calls it Hangu’l-mar. Papa calls it Korean. Mostly, I just know how Mama feels, by how she talks.

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE-2015 I have remained committed to visiting the places that Penny and I had listed, but had never gotten around to seeing. Some of that was done this year. I also drove across the South, to Florida, with the aim of helping to celebrate my mother-in-law’s birthday. After visiting a Xanga friend, in Lynn Haven, near Panama City, I headed towards The Villages, where the family lived. Outside Ocala, I got a call that said, essentially, the visit was off. Dementia does hard things to its victim and to the family. I headed back to Tallahassee and spent a day or so, taking in the capital, then went up to Sylacauga, AL and spent a few hours with another Xanga friend. (Xanga, for the uninitiated, was a blogsite, to which I belonged between 2008-11. I have visited several friends-particularly in Orange County, CA; Oklahoma,, Amarillo, Portland, Washington State, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana and Oley, PA.)

My drive back gave me time to check out the five missions of the Alamo, and to take in the Trans-Pecos region, between Uvalde and El Paso. Marfa was a town that I found most interesting.

Back in Prescott, I had drawn the attention of a homeless man, who had not experienced such a kind life. I took him places that he needed to go and let him shower in the apartment, every so many days. He himself ran afoul of some rather rough people in town, and when they spotted him in my KIA Optima, there was retribution. On the Saturday before Easter, as I was driving back from a hike in the Payson area, my brakes snapped and I ended up in a ditch. The Optima was toast, and while I was assessed a Defensive Driving class, the attendant at the police impound yard noted that the brake lines had been cut. I left the matter to the police to investigate. I was physically okay, got adjusted by my chiropractor and went about getting another vehicle.

The Nissan Altima had significant issues with its transmission, after about three weeks. I got what seemed to be a fix, then bid my homeless friend adieu and headed north for few weeks. I got as far as Hawthorne, NV, had a hard time with the vehicle, and had visions of being in the town of one auto repair shop through Memorial Day weekend, until God knew when. I got one of those spirit messages that come every so often: “We’re going to get you to Reno.” The car started, and by the grace of God, through my late, beloved wife, her father, and most likely my own dear dad, I got to a Casino parking lot, in Sparks, and had the Altima towed the rest of the way to Reno. A good transmission shop had the car back in tip top shape, after a week. I had a nice visit with my friends in Reno and Carson City, in the meantime.

Then came Alaska. I drove through northern California, Oregon and Washington, leaving the Altima in a secure lot in Bellingham. The ferry took me to Wrangell, Juneau, Sitka and Ketchikan. I found magic in each of those places, and would gladly return, though so far it hasn’t been to be in the cards. On the way back, I went up to Vancouver for a day or so, then drove over to Anacortes, WA and hopped on another ferry, this one going to Sidney, BC, and from there to Victoria. It was National Aboriginal Day there, so I joined the festivities and took a tour led by a member of the Songhees First Nation. A huge amount of Aboriginal history was imparted that afternoon.

I observed Father’s Day in Monroe, WA, enjoying a fine Italian meal, and stayed in a nice little cabin by the river. The days ahead took me through eastern Washington, western Idaho, and back through Oregon’s “Outback”, another stop in Reno and back, safely, to Prescott.

The rest of the year was fairly peaceful. I covered a third grade class, in a charter school, for a few months and successfully taught the kids to sing “Winter Wonderland”, in choral style. Some of those children remained close to me, even until their graduation from high school, nine years later.

Getting Past Hiccups

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July 20, 2024, Tofino, BC- I will forever consider myself blessed, when it comes to family. I can talk with my son, any of my siblings and any in-laws, with no qualms or trepidation, at a moment’s notice.

So many friends don’t have that blessing. I have heard from friends, recently, about being cut off from adult children and siblings-most often not because of anything they did, but because of third-party interference. This may, or may not, be part of the story, or even the whole story. I know there are those who prey on disaffected youth and actively work to turn them against their parents. There is a special place in the world of retribution for such monsters, but I digress.

No one can turn a person against their loved ones, without that person’s consent. In the end, though, there is loneliness. Chances are, the manipulator won’t be there for the lost soul. The person who is disaffected from their parent(s) or their children will have outlived any usefulness to the predator-who is most often seeking power, in a neurotic manner. So often, the predator will use mainstream religion, or cult membership, to appeal to the prey. Only when the troubled soul wakes up and reconciles with those s(he) has cast out, can there be any chance for real recovery.

I thought about these things, whilst en route to the exquisite Pacific Rim, of west central Vancouver Island. Earlier in the day, after a marvelous rest at Turtle Hostel, in Victoria’s Hillside/Quadra district, I had pleasant meetings with two dear friends, and was glad to be able to offer them support. Regarding Hillside/Quadra, it is ringed by churches and Victoria’s Conservatory of Music-and as I mentioned in the last post, is a haven for unhoused people.

Alex Goold Performance Center, Victoria Conservatory of Music
Anglican Church of St. John the Divine, Victoria
First United Church, Victoria

Each of these institutions does what it can, to help its unhoused neighbours. As is the case back at Home Base, Prescott, there are soup kitchens and active efforts to clothe the people. There, but for the grace of God……

In the next post, I will focus on the cathedrals of a different sort: The majesty of the Pacific Rim and the edge of Clayoquot Sound, particularly in Tofino and Ucluelet. Here is an example:

Clayoquot Sound, Tofino