Boss Mom

The definition of a mother, according to Merriam-Webster, is “a woman in authority.”

Well, ain’t that the truth!

In Polynesian culture, the makuahine (Hawaiian word for: mother), is the disciplinarian of the ohana (family). They feed you, clothe you, and give you pa’i (spanking) when you are being naughty. My mother is no different. Whenever my sister and I fought, we heard her thundering footsteps coming down the stairs. One by one, one foot after the other, with that slanted, brows scrunched, and fury in her eyes. If I did not finish my homework, smack! When I disrespected a friend or family member, smack! Whenever I talked back, smack…Smack…SMACK!!

Hmm, no wonder my head is a little crooked. But I deserved every smack I got.

My father would argue differently. Him and my mom nurture, love, and even argue with each other. I guess with every woman, arguments are always solved with four words, “Because I said SO!” It is no different when kids do the same.

However, I beg-to-differ the dictionary definition of a mother. She is much more than that. And here is my story on why my mother defines the term: BOSS MOM!

My mother’s name is Myra Akina, and she is the authority figure in our home. Her daily routine, many would consider, would deter most people on evening attempting it. Wonder Woman would have a tough time keeping up with it.

However, I will do my best to describe it.

My mother has done things throughout her life, as many mothers have, that I would never be able to keep up. Her daily ritual started at 2:00 p.m. She gets up from her nap and gets ready to pick me up from school. If I had any activities, (basketball, football, baseball practice or church events) she would take me to them. She tries getting a few extra hours of sleep before she gets ready for work at 6:00 p.m. Usually, consisted of making dinner, checking my sister’s and mine’s homework, and going to any sporting events I might have that evening. Around 8:00 p.m., my dad would drop her off at the Post Office by the Honolulu Airport. That alone is about a 30-minute drive from our home. She worked from 9:00 p.m. to about 6:00 p.m. She would drive home, get my sister and I ready for school, and drop us off. My school was further away, so by the time she got home. It would be around 9:00 a.m. and she would try to get as much sleep as she could!

Oh yeah, I also forgot. She took care of her handicapped sister. Her name was Avenel. She was, both, mentally and physically retarded, by societies standard anyway. And when my mother got home from dropping us off at school, she would have to take care of her as well. Feed her, bathe her, clean her up if she made a mess. In perspective, it is like taking care of an adult who cannot think or act more than a two-year-old infant. Avey, as my family like to call her, has her own strength and wisdom that society did not. But my family and I knew, she was better than all of us ever would be. But I digress.

I could not believe the strength my mother had. To do that for over 30 years of her life. It is more than any depiction of Wonder Woman could manifest on television.

So, how was she a Boss Mom? Here is the story.

Elementary is a very, impressionable age. Kids do not have much of a filter I am afraid. A 10-year-old boy can go through many difficult things at such an early age. One thing that I went through at 10 years-old is being told, by my peers, that I am UGLY! Specifically, when said by the girl of my dreams, at the time!

I was a 5th grade student at a private school in Hawaii called, Star of the Sea! Yes, that is the name of the school. I will not dare sing our alma mater. It would just make your ears bleed. Anyway, there was this girl, let just call her Sarah. She was every boy’s dream girl at my school. Especially mines! Sarah had that Cinderella smile, that Alice in Wonderland adventurous heart, beauty like Belle, and the humor like the Tangled version of Rapunzel.

The boisterous, proud, little boy in me looked at this strange creature and thought, “Wow! She’s HOT!” Well, boy’s vocabulary at that age is not as articulate. She was the Beauty to my Beast! The Juliet to my Romeo! The Fox to my Hound! The Nacho to my Libre! Cheesy, I know.

Anyway, fast-forward, to a day I will never forget. When I spilt the beans to one of Sarah’s friend that I liked Sarah, I could not stop saying all the previous statements I wrote above to Sarah’s friend. However, this was my mistake and where things took a turn for the worst.

Sarah’s friend, let us call her Jane, looked at me with hopelessness, but in a matter-of-fact tone, and said, “She doesn’t like you and thinks you look UGLY!”

….

Has anyone ever watched a movie or T.V. show where the protagonist is trying to save a victim or talking with a friend/mentor about an important moment, and suddenly, time stops and silence pierces through the screen into your ear’s knowing that something they just learned stabbed at their heart and crushed their soul?

That was what happened to me. The girl I liked very much, called me Ugly! It was like my whole world just shattered and I was alone.

When I heard that from Jane, I was sad for the first 10 seconds. Then I was mad. Sarah was just 30 yards away from me and Jane. Jane decided to run to her and, the determined boy I am, I walked past where Jane met up with Sarah. As I walked past, I heard Sarah say, “YOU DID!?” To this day, I am not sure what Jane told Sarah, but I could only imagine.

My puppy-dog heart went to a quiet place and cried! It was the end of school anyway, so I waited for my mother to pick me up from school.

Getting in the car and trying to avoid my mother’s gaze, due to the red puffiness it had, was a difficult feat. She looked at me and asked, “How was school?”

“Fine”, I tried to say with as much confidence as my broken heart could muster. I do not know how mothers do this, but their nurturing instincts are acute when it comes to their offspring. She was not fooled. I could tell!

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

I did not want to explain to my mom that, at a young age, I identified myself as ugly…worthless…not good enough.

She did not push the matter until later that evening, just as she was about to go to work. She noticed my reserved demeanor that permeated my body. I was not my boisterous, carefree self that I usually am at home.

I remember sitting in front of the television, watching Disney Channel, and noticed my mother watching with me. She usually never watches my shows. But tonight, she decided to sit with me and watch my favorite shows on this channel. My theory was she knew something was still wrong but did not want to force it out of me.

Time passed! I was getting antsy and could not stop myself from breaking down in front of her because of what a girl said to me at school. Finally, I asked my mother, “Mom? Why am I ugly?”

I do not know what my mother was expecting. But, from her response and her face, I knew it was not that.

“Who said you were ugly!?” She demanded.

After a moment of prolonged silence, wondering if I asked the wrong question, I mutter with my only response I could come up with, “A girl.”

I have never seen my mother change facial expressions and mood faster than she did then. Like flicking a light switch. She went from inquisitive, to shocked, to confused, to pity in a matter of seconds.

She did not say anything. We waited in absolute silence, other than the background television show. Then she sat next to me, wrapped her arms around me, and quieted my bawling face and said, “Pono, don’t worry about what that girl said.”

She paused. Gave a great sigh and then continued, “Because I love you the way you are, and so does Heavenly Father.”

She paused again.

Then continued by asking me, “Do you know why?”

I looked up at her face through tear-stained eyes and asked, “why?”

“Because you are a Child of God. His love is boundless and all ways present. It does not matter what people think about you. It only matters that you love yourself the way God does.”

In that moment, she said a few things that forever changed my life and made me who I am today. It took me awhile to understand what she meant; however, as time passed, I knew what she was hoping for me to understand.

We should never accept what others say about us. It is not even how family members view us, though it helps if they love and support us. It is the belief in ourselves and our understanding of being a child of God. It means much more than people give it credit.

At the end of it all, my mother gave me the one thing that great mothers around the world share, or should share, with their child/children…is Hope!

She gave me the hope that, even though some people might see me ugly, weird, or strange, I should always love myself the way God loves me. Because that is what matters. That is what will get me through trials I face in life. If I feel the world hates me, rejects me, or casts me out for being different, God cares and wants what is best for me and to be my best self. Even if, what is best for me, is going through heartbreak!

This story helped me become a good person to everyone around me. Especially girls who see me as Ugly. Even when good people in this world are not exactly high up on anyone’s priority list.

She taught me how to love myself. Taught me that people’s opinion does not matter. Just believe in yourself, how Heavenly Father believes and loves me.

So, to define my Boss Mom.

My mother is a: disciplinarian, caretaker, nurture, babysitter, coach, fan, teacher, chauffeur, healer, guide, maid, churchgoer, giver, Santa Clause, Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, Wonder Woman, daughter, wife, grandmother….and, above all, a BOSS MOM!!

“Youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall; A mother’s secret hope outlives them all.” —Oliver Wendell Holmes