Happy New Year all! Wow, I am thrilled beyond belief that 2015 is
here, and 2014 is nestled safely in the record books. It was a great year,
but a little tougher than I would have liked, so onward to 2015! I do have one
final special story to share about 2014 featuring a few of my favorite people
in the world, and starring the coolest graduate out of St. Monica’s high
school, my dad, Pete Kelly.
My dad is a dashing Richard Gere look-a-like circa Pretty Woman,
and a former football and baseball high school and collegiate stand out, who
actually turned down an invitation to the Angels training camp in order to
pursue his graduate degree in business. Therefore, it is no surprise that he
has always been supportive of my athletic efforts from year one, we are both
natural athletes, and bonded over that connection. Moreover, he has remained in
tremendous shape throughout his Silver Centrum years, and I have many fond
memories of weekly football games at his house growing up with him slinging the
ball better than any Peyton of today to all of us Kelly/Fox kids as we raced
for touchdowns and roars of approval. Honestly, I was not the happiest child, but I was
my best self-playing sports, and catching my dad’s touchdown passes were
valuable highlights of a few too many dark days during the late eighties/early
nineties.
It is difficult to be a child of divorce, there is no way to
comprehend why your parents break up, there is no need to, even though I didn’t
see my dad every day growing up, he has given me immeasurable opportunities,
and has always been there for me when I needed him. I am sure he has not
understood many of the decisions I have made in my life, for example studying
film in college, but he supported me, and helped me get on my feet in
production the first nine months after I graduated college by letting me live
with him and my super-step mom, Sally until I had enough change in my pocket to
rent my first Studio apartment in Venice, Ca. The day I moved in my dad
famously said, “You’ll remember this shoe box when you are a famous producer
someday.” Ah, fatherly encouragement. However, I would expect nothing less from
my dad, he works hard, is successful, and believes that I can do and achieve
whatever I put my mind to, and I do, too. Thankfully, I am a lot more like him
that I ever thought I would be, I eat almonds with a Hansen’s soda during
cocktail hour like clockwork, a slightly PG version of his gin and tonic with
Goldfish crackers, but we are both creatures of routine, and I could not be
more proud.
The past ten years or so have been an interesting journey with my dad,
navigating an adult relationship with your parent’s is different for everyone,
and we have had our share of troubling moments, but I am thankful for every
painful and empowering conversation, each one strengthened our relationship,
and brought us to this very special place we are today. Did I mention that I
just spent a week with him Kauai, Hi? Oh okay, I will get to that:)
In late September Sally emailed me asking if Marion and I would want
to come with her, Dad, and my sister Sarah to Kauai for Christmas. She knew
Hannah would be with her Mom’s family in Colombia, and my other siblings were
with their spouses’ families for Christmas, so it made sense, but I thought it
was too much, and felt overwhelmed about how to handle it. Then Marion nearly
made a hole in our ceiling by leaping out of his skin when I told him, he had
never been to Hawaii, and we have not been on a vacation since our honeymoon in
2006, so he thought it was a no brainer, we were going! What it really came
down to for me was the chance to spend quality, uninterrupted time with Dad and
Sally, because time is fleeting, and I knew this time together would be
special. Also, who turns down a trip to Hawaii??
Marion and I flew out on Sunday, December 21st, Sarah arrived the
day before, and Dad and Sally had been there since the 16th, so they were
already in their Kauai routine. We did have a slight hiccup in that our luggage
did not make the second flight to Kauai on time, but it arrived at our condo
before bedtime, and I had carried on all of my running gear, so I was fine. We
ate the first night at the local Poipu fish/bar restaurant, Brenneckes, it was
delicious, and the laughs were as free-flowing as the fruity margaritas Marion
ordered, it was a fun and a festive way to kick off the week.
The following morning Sarah, Marion and I went for an epic run up to
Spouting Horn, a historical site overlooking the ocean, and back down the beach
toward the Hyatt and back up Poipu Road. Next, we spent hours in the sun laying
on the beach, my absolute nightmare scenario as a kid because I usually walked
away with a sunburn vs. a golden tan, but this time I let my porcelain stomach
sear in the sunlight, it was a Christmas miracle.
The next few days were various versions of the same schedule of bliss,
early rising, long fun runs, sunshine, and tasty dinners. The absolute high
light for me was taking everyone out to a hoity-toity dinner at the local hot
spot, The Beach House. The setting was gorgeous, the food was incredible,
everyone ate their body weight in fresh fish, and I ordered two veggie dishes!
It was the best time I have had out in over 35 years:)
Sarah and I started Christmas day watching the sunrise over the
pacific during an early run, kudos to her for that genius idea, it was
spectacular. Next, we attended a beautiful mass at St. Raphael’s Catholic
Church, the oldest Catholic Church on Kauai, and the only church in the world
where flip-flops are acceptable footwear. Marion fell in love with the service,
the priest, the songs, and the company; it was a special mass for us, and
hopefully the start of many more in our future. I was slightly let down that
the exit song was not the standard “go-to” Christmas song, “Joy to the World,”
but rather, “Go Tell it On The Mountain,” it was still lovely, yet not the
usual gateway into Christmas festivities that I am used to. Oh well, Marion
told me to embrace the Hawaii-esque theme of the “Mountain”, so I let it go.
Clearly, I haven’t let it go, because I am re-telling it here, but I refused to
let the lack of my lungs belting out “Joy to the World” ruin my Christmas. We
spent the remaining hours of the day lying on the beach, swimming in the ocean,
and eating a scrumptious buffet dinner over-looking the sunset, pure bliss.
The following morning I had Marion up early because he and my dad were
going on a deep sea fishing trip. This fishing excursion was Marion’s only
request of “things to do”, so he was very excited, and thankfully my dad loves
to fish. However, I find the idea of bobbing around in a boat miles away from
shore revolting, so it would just be a floating opportunity for some father/son
in law bonding, while I remained safely on land. A few hours later Sarah
and I wrestled us up for one last long, eleven plus mile run along the coast
and across uncharted trails that were simply breathtaking. The hills were green
and alive, and cliffs were craggy and gorgeous, it was a runner’s paradise.
Our final night in Kauai was simple and sweet. Dad and Marion caught
some lovely yellow fin tuna on their fishing trip that Marion barbequed and
Sally sautéed, both preparations looked delicious, even though I still stuck
with salad. As we sat together around the dinner table I felt calm and content,
a familiar feeling that I used to have every Saturday night at my dad’s house
growing up; always-wonderful food to eat, and fantastic stories to share. My dad told stories of his memories on the island, he has been visiting
Kauai for over thirty years, and as I listened and smiled I felt thankful that
he invited us here and proud to be his daughter. I hope to live my life with
generosity, and kindness like my dad, he is a wonderful role model and an
amazing human being.
Marion
summed up the essence of the week, and his new “bromance” with my dad on the
drive to the airport when he said, “I’m really going to miss you, Pete.” On the
other hand, I couldn’t say much at all, I was too sad, a happy sad,
because the week was so special, but sad to wave good-bye to my dad as he drove
away from the terminal. For the first time in at least fifteen or twenty years
I felt like all I was in the world was my dad’s little girl, and it was nice to
feel that innocence again, to know that once we hit eighteen, or get married,
it isn’t lost entirely, just buried underneath grown up responsibilities, but
able to pop up once in a while to let us breathe easier, knowing our amazing
dads are always looking out for us.
No comments:
Post a Comment