Grieving a lost dream

Anyone who has a home on the Big Island of Hawaii or who is even a mild Hawaii fanatic knows about "Lava" Jack.  We went to Hawaii on our honeymoon in the 90's and once we did, we found our second home.  When we saw lava for the first time, we became certified lava freaks.  In 2001, we found ourselves alone in a lava field for 3 hours watching the volcano goddess, Pele show off some of her finest work.  We read up quite extensively on safety around lava from items to take to watching for flows sneaking up on you to getting gas masks so we could breathe during a white out.  We made an offering and a finger from a flow going downward reached out to the left and claimed our offering.  From that point on, the lava increased quite a bit.  To say it was mesmerizing was an understatement.  It immersed every sense.  The bright glow of the lava, the undeniable smell that was a mix of sulphur and finger paint and the sounds of molten lava covering hardened lava.  It sounds like a roaring wood fire with the occasional plink of glass flaking off and shooting into the air from the heat.

We knew about Lava Jack and we rooted for him.  He finished his home the day the volcanic eruption began in 1983.  Parts of the subdivision he was in were overrun with lava as was an entire town in the 90's.  Before long, Jack was the only one left.  His only access was eventually cut off and he had a 3-4 mile hike out and back to get supplies.  He had his own piece of paradise with fruit trees he'd cultivated and eventually, he started hosting tourists and local friends in his home.  It was a dream of ours to eventually stay in his home overnight.  To see that red glow from his porch, to talk to him and have a personal tour of land that we wouldn't have access to otherwise to feed our lava addiction.  An addiction that had us buying land in the rainforest so we could be close enough to Pele but not too close.  We planned to do that next year and I was just wanting to get another 40 lbs or so off so that I could comfortably hike in the heat of the black lava without embarrassing myself.

In the past 30 years, many flows have headed Jack's way and many times Pele granted him more time on his beautiful acre of land...until a week ago today.  Jack's piece of paradise is under lava, reclaimed by the volcano goddess who respected the man who took care of her 'aina (land) until she took it back.  As I read this news, I sobbed uncontrollably for a few hours.  Jack was a lava renegade to us.  He was the last man standing for so long and no one ever questioned why, it seemed that they had a special relationship and all of his friends and admirers knew that.  It was quite beautiful.  My heart broke for him and after a good crying jag I also realized my heart broke for us.  Yet one more thing that our years of being overweight stole from us.  Another thing that we couldn't do because I wasn't in good enough shape or too embarrassed or too...whatever.  I mourn for that lost opportunity of that ultimate bucket list item for the Mr and I.  I can only hope one day we get to meet Jack and express what following his story meant to us.  To tell him we can never know his loss but grieved for it just the same.

Don't let your weight hold you back from opportunities to do something that may not always be an option.  If there isn't a weight limit involved in an activity you want to do, just take a deep breath, jump out of your comfort zone and do it.  We're not guaranteed all the time in the world to do big things.

If you want to read more about Jack's story and see video of his last day and return, click here.

What activity do you want to do that you haven't because of psychological barriers with your weight?

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