AFFECTION FOR MRS. AMIKA KEOULI
MRS. AMIKA KEOULI
Mr. Editor of the Kuokoa, Solomon Hanohano, Aloha oe:—I ask for you kindness for an open space o the pride of the lahui [the Kuokoa Newspaper], for my bundle of tears of sadness, that being my dearly beloved mama passing on the road of no return, it will be for you to speed to where the sun appears at Kumukahi all the way to Haehae where the sun sets, so that the family and friends will know that my mama is no more; she has gone, she sleeps on the road of no return. Auwe, the pain of my heart for my dear mama who has gone afar. I will no more hear the voice of my mama calling, “Nela, how will I drink some of your milk?” Auwe, how sad!
My dear mother was born in Kona, Hoopuloa, on June 12, 1862, from the loins of Kaaimoku, her father, and Kamahana, her mother, and she got married to J. N. Keouli, my father, on the 23rd of August, 1893, and she put aside her toil on May 24, 1921; aloha, aloha for my dear mama.
My mother was devout, she loved her family and her friends, she loved us, her children and her grandchildren.
Mama, where are you? Are you farming in the shade of the leaves of the coffee of Maunaihi, where I search here and there for you; how will I see you? Auwe, my unfulfilled hope for you O mama! The home was made warm by you, O mama, I don’t go to work and come home with you there, O mama; I never dreamt that you would leave me.
While I was busy at work at Mrs. McCarthy’s place, Lily K. Auld, the president of the Ahahui Kaahumanu, came and told me the sad news, “Nellie, I came to tell you that mama Amika passed on Wednesday; a phone call came from Hilo;” auwe, this was the evening of Thurday; tears flowed and I went out of my mind; it was like I went crazy hearing this news that shocked my heart.
O Mama, come back; elder sister came for you to take you to Honolulu; and you have gone afar, leaving your bones in unfamiliar lands. Aloha, aloha for you o my dear mama, who I search for your love; how has it come to an end; everywhere I was with my mama: we climbed together to farm, to pick coffee, to work with lauhala; O mama, it is evening, let’s go home, the water is cold; auwe, all of my grief seeing all the places mama worked. While my mama was weak, she persevered in all her efforts, and it was death which gave my mama rest; she is free from her burdens.
The sickness of my mama began when she was living in Honolulu with my elder sister Miriam Napoleon; I told my mama to come back here to the land of the Haao Rain [the rain of Kau]; my mama returned with that sickness, and she started coughing, and after that, she was out of breath, and after that she was at ease, then mama had swelling; for two months and two weeks, my mama cried in pain and she lay down. Auwe my never-ending aloha for my mama when I recall her; auwe O elder sister, you took mama to Honolulu and she was left atop Puea [cemetery]; aloha, aloha my dear mama; I did not see your last breath, or your earthly remains; the image in the paper is what I saw.*
O Haao Rain, you will no more see my mama amongst your bowers. O Wainaukepoo, you will not see my mama again passing before your face. O Maunaihi, you will not again see mama Amika sitting among your shade. O Malelani, you will not carry my mama i your bosom. O Pohina, you will not see my mama Amika on your shores once again.
O great wide ocean, you will no more carry my mama ever again.
My dear mama left us, her three children, her three hunona [son or daughter-in-law], and ther seven grandchildren, along with her younger brother, Naihe Kaaimoku, and her ohana who grieves for my mama who has gone afar.
I give my great thanks to the president of the Kaahumanu Society of Waiohinu and the members of the Kaahumanu Society who joined along with me, the one who is left without her mother.
My beloved mama was a member of the Ahahui Kaahumanu; she joined the Waiohinu chapter on the 3rd of March, 1919. I leave it all to God who will lighten my heart filled with sadness, for He giveth and He taketh away. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
To the Editor goes my endless regards.
Her dear child left without a mother,
MRS. NELLIE KEOULI KALEHUA.
Waiohinu, Kau, Hawaii.
[I wonder if her grave can still be found at Puea.]
(Kuokoa, 6/17/1921, p. 3)