meet the parents

It's the day after Thanksgiving and the fridge is full of leftover turkey, stuffing, pumpkin pie, and the corn pudding that Tutu (Hawaiian for grandma) made for the first time. No complaints. I could eat Tutu's cooking for weeks, especially her homemade stuffing. Mmmmmm.

Thanksgiving at Tutu's was just the thing I needed yesterday. Sitting on a chair in the dining room, I took in the sights, sounds, and smells of Thanksgiving with my family. Mom making gravy for our kalua turkey (kalua is the process of cooking in an underground pit called an imu- its a Polynesian oven), the sound of Hawaiian music, laughter from my aunts and uncles sitting outside, pictures of my family all around me...smiling. All I could think at that moment was how lucky I am. How incredibly lucky I am.

Most of the night was spent outside with my family...drinking wine and laughing to all the stories my uncles told about when they were kids. Sneaking out of the house, being forced by Papa to eat fish soup, haircuts, the dentist...I never laughed so hard. Then they all started talking about school and how my cousin's brother-in-law got a full scholarship to Harvard while my aunty talked about her daughter's full scholarship to Columbia....I made a quick exit out of that conversation before they had a chance to turn their focus on me. I could just see it..."So, are YOU going to school this semester?" Ummm...no, didn't you hear? I got screwed up over a guy, couldn't concentrate, and then dropped out. Hmm...is that gravy I smell burning?

Regg has never met my family. He has told me over and over how he envies me for having such a big family and such a good family life. It's true. I have the most wonderful family. On my Dad's side, I have 3 aunties and 5 uncles...and tons of cousins. Cousins with whom I spent countless summers at the beach with...family parties playing hiding go seek... or sliding down the steep grassy hill at my Tutu's house in cardboard boxes. Being that Tutu and Papa lived 5 minutes away, I was always closest to my Dad's side of the family. My Hawaiian side, my mother's side, all live on the Big Island.

All this talk about family reminds me of the first time I officially met Regg's. It makes me laugh just thinking it about it. It was his brother Sam's 30th birthday and they were celebrating it at Alan Wong's restaurant. Naturally, I was a little nervous. Sam, his girlfriend, two friends of his, Stacy (Sam and Regg's sister), Regg's mom, and Regg's stepdad were there. I was sitting between Regg and his mom and everything was going good for the most part. Then came time for dinner. Regg's mom turns to me and says,

"Honey, why don't you say grace?"
"Me? Umm..." Nervous laughing. "I don't know...ummm..."
"Sure, you can do it." She turns to her husband, "Honey, she's going to say grace."
"Oh, good, good!" he says.
Nervously, I say, "Um...I don't know."
Then Stacy chimes in, "Oh, that will be nice!"
Sensing how nervous I am, Regg says, "Mom, you do it."

During all this, I'm sitting there and thoughts of Meet the Parents are going through my head. If you haven't seen it, go out and rent it. It's the funniest movie. Anyway, theres a scene where he is asked to say grace and its one of the best parts in the movie. "Oh heavenly father...we thank you...for being a gracious and accomadating Lord...oh, Lord..."

"No, she can do it, Regg." the stepdad says.
Then Regg, trying to be funny, says, "But she's Jewish." Just like Ben Stiller's girlfriend in Meet the Parents.
Regg's stepdad, not getting the joke, says, "You're Jewish?"
"No, hun, she's not Jewish. Stop it Regg." the mom says.
"So, Jewish people pray." says the stepdad.
Sam says, "That's okay...she doesn't have to do it."

By now, just all this discussion about whether or not I was saying grace was emabarassing enough, so I said,

"It's alright. I'll say it."
"Okay, everyone." said the mom.

Everyone bowed their heads and I said my prayer. I couldn't even tell you what it was I said, but I know at one point I forgot Sam's name.

"Thank you God for bringing us together to celebrate..."
Dead silence.
"Sam." whispered Stacy.
"Sam's birthday."

Oh my, was I relieved when that was over. Of course, the mom said it was a wonderful prayer. I was shaking in my boots. All I could think of was...omigod, I forgot Sam's name.

On the way home, and even now if it comes up, we laugh about it. I don't know why I didn't just say one of those easy ready prayers. Like the one I remember saying in school before lunch, "Bless us oh Lord and these thy gifts..." For some reason, I felt this immense pressure to come up with something profound on the spot. I'm such an idiot. It a good memory though. A good memory.

Hmmm...the holidays are here. And I miss Regg.