Keao's Photography, Hawaii Wedding and Lifestyle Photographer

Happy Mother’s Day!!!

What? Are you  incredulous that not only am I not 2 days late, or even right on time, I’m jumping the gun 2 days early.

I’m hoping…that if I do Mother’s Day right, I won’t be sitting at my computer. I have some very big plans for some snuggles times with everyone in my house under three feet tall. So, I wanted to wish you all a Happy Mother’s Day early in case I don’t get a chance to this Sunday.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in church and Pastor Carl Moore mentioned the radio program “Word of Hope” that the church has been broadcasting for years. So, of course, my mind starts wandering down a windy but beautiful path. Radio is such a fascinating world for me, although I have absolutely no desire to ever dabble in it. I certainly don’t have the voice for radio. But broadcasting out on radio waves, much like my rambling on this blog, must at times feel like talking to the wind. How can you tell who’s out there? Who’s listening? Are you having any impact at all?

And then I remembered.

I was 21. I was a first year grad student at UH, barely making ends meet. Living with roommates in a house with holes in the floor. Driving my first car that cost me a whopping $600. I LOVED that car, but you had to fill the radiator every time you needed to drive more than 10 miles. And it couldn’t make it up steep hills. I remember trying to give a friend a ride home and after two failed attempts to get up a steep hill, we had to find an alternate route to her house. So I found a second job on Sunday mornings. I was also on the hunt for a church but faced a bit of a problem since most churches meet on Sunday mornings. I really didn’t know where to look. During a call home to the Big Island, my father mentioned that he had been listening to a guy named Ralph Moore on the radio. Told me that this Ralph guy had a church, and that it was actually pretty close to where I lived. That I should go check it out. So I did. And that’s how I found Hope Chapel Kaneohe Bay.

It was a large church…and I was quiet. It took a while before I got to really know anyone there, but after a few years, I was looking to get better connected. So, I searched their website until I found the name of the Pastor in charge of the college-age ministry, Ignite. His name was Scott. There was contact information for him so I sent him a quick email. This one to be exact.

I can’t believe this was the email that started our journey. I wish it was a little more flowery and romantic. It definitely wasn’t love at first sight, that took a little bit to develop. I kind of had to chase him at times, fortunately, he’s really not a great runner. Thank goodness for that. Because about six years after hearing my dad talk about a radio show, and three-years-two-months after that email, I married that man. And would you believe it? We were married by the very man whose voice over the radio waves helped us find each other, Pastor Ralph Moore.

It’s a few years later and I find myself now bearing these wonderful, heavy, precious labels…wife….mom.

I think of the way we struggle, pouring ourselves into things and never knowing what will become of it, how it will impact and change the lives of others. Is it worth it? I don’t think we’ll always know. But I think it’s pretty crazy cool how a little radio program helped me.

It gave me a church.
It gave me a home.
It gave me a family.
Not too shabby for this girl.

Keao is a Hawaii family and wedding photographer available on the islands of Oahu and the Big Island.  She loves books, chewy chocolate chip cookies, is unable to keep from rambling when writing, and would love nothing more than to be able to tell your story with beautiful images.  Contact Keao to learn how to schedule a portrait session or request information on wedding services.  (keao@keaosphotography.com)

Wicked.

Choosing colleges to apply to was such a shot in the dark.  There would be no college tours for this country girl, my family couldn’t even afford the  fees just to apply for a college. I was fortunate that my high school had a great financial aid program and awarded three college application waivers.    I knew this was my one shot to go out into the big world and live life in a crazy new place with crazy new experiences.  So, being from the most southwestern state in the US, I set my eyes on the extreme northeast.  I wanted to go far and go big…and see snow for the first time.  I applied to Amherst, Wellesley, and Boston College.  And that Fall, I packed my winter wear (two long-sleeved sweaters) into my beat-up suitcase and stepped onto the beautiful campus of Boston College.

I loved Boston.

It was an incredible experience.  It was as different from Hawaii as you can get.  Splotches of green ivy meandering across the walls of brick buildings.  Chewing on a sweet hunk of fried bread as you walked down cobblestone streets.  Shuttle drivers shouting out in thick Irish accents as loud Irish music blared over the radio.  And driving?  I learned that Boston drivers are affectionately (sometimes not so affectionately) called Mass-holes.  Aw, that charming Massachussetts humor.  There were multi-lane roads that didn’t even have those convenient white paint lines to give you a hint where your lane was.  Cars battled for space and made their own lanes wherever they could fit.  I was a passenger many times but I never had enough courage to actually drive in Boston.

I did learn many other things during my four years there.  I learned I couldn’t live without chapstick.  I learned about this strange sandwich they all love, the “fluffer nutter.”  Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff.  I tried it.  Not a fan.  I learned that bars are called pubs.  I learned that the consonant “r” can be left out of words on a whim.  Parking your car?  Yeah, you don’t need those pesky r’s.   Just leave `em out.  I learned Irish step dancing.  I’m not kidding.  It was one of my electives during senior year.  My instructor’s daughter was only 12 at the time but had a standing contract with Lord of the Dance just waiting until she was old enough.  I also learned new vernacular.  ”Pop” instead of “soda.”  And “wicked.”  I gleaned after four years that “wicked” was an adverb you used when “very” just wasn’t doing justice.  That’s wicked cool.  He’s wicked tall.

I learned that Bostonians are crazy over running.  I have never seen so many people running in my life.  Every day, from 4-7, the roads were just littered with people running.  Rain or shine, in the deep of winter with black ice or snow coating the roads, there they were…running.  I grew up in paradise with the mildest weather where we have no excuse not to run, but I’d never seen so many people running in my life.  That’s just what they do.

And every year, the city comes to a stop on Patriot’s Day  and all eyes are fixed on the city’s pride and joy, the Boston Marathon.  Unlike the Honolulu marathon which starts in the wee hours at dawn, the Boston Marathon starts later in the morning at about 9 because of the cooler weather.  Patriot’s Day is a state holiday so everyone is free to watch and cheer on the runners.  I was lucky enough to get a first row seat.  Boston College sits right on the marathon route.  It’s a huge day of festivities and fun as students BBQ on the lawns and cheer on the runners.  Boston College sits at the top of what’s known in the marathon as “Heartbreak Hill,” a long stretch of Commonwealth Avenue that starts to climb around mile 20 of the marathon.  By the time they near the top of the hill at Boston College, some of them are clearly struggling and the roar of the crowds seem to re-energize them.

A younger skinnier me cheering the runners on. I hope they felt encouraged=)