They Came

I stretched out on a piece of furniture with my eyes closed in a waiting room just down the hall from Ian’s hospital room. From the TV mounted just above my head, I could hear the NBC commentator calling what must have been an exciting swimming event at the Rio Summer Olympics. Our family had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Summer Olympics, a beloved event in the Coronas household.

But now, I didn’t care.

Today, it was simply meaningless.

Surrounded by family members who came (daily) with food, hugs and disbelief, I tried to rest my fatigued body and soul — if even just for a moment.

We were gathered down the hall because Ian’s room was full.  Family and friends came. It seems like they all came…long-time family friends, friends from Maryknoll School, University of Hawaii, T&C Surf, Xerox Hawaii, prayer warriors from church, and, of course, friends from the downhill skate community.

I worried that Ian might be overtaxed by all the visitors. The struggle was absolutely real, as he fought major bouts of nausea and clung to his pink hospital-provided container – just in case. His legs continued to malfunction and a walker was required for a trip to the bathroom located 10 feet away. Still, it appeared that the visits were helping Ian’s spirits. He was touched by each and every family member, friend, and co-worker who came to visit.

Ian was resting quietly on Monday afternoon when world-renowned Big-Wave Rider Aaron Gold and Joel Centeio, one of Hawaii’s most beloved pro surfers, walked into the room. It took just a second to register. Then, Ian’s face lit up. No introductions were required. Ian knew these guys. He maneuvered his bed position and soon they were talking surf – big surf, small surf, surf around the world. And, they were talking about God.

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Our Little Yellow Flower

Dave was walking a bit ahead of me as Rosie pulled him quickly towards the park she enjoyed so much. He was a good 20 to 30 feet ahead, and this provided an opportunity for the emotions that were simmering inside me to explode like a mishandled pressure cooker.

“Why, Lord? Why Ian?” I cried out. Questions I asked often in those very early days.

“Lord help me,” I cried out audibly, but not loud enough for Dave to hear. I wiped away tears that surged and receded violently like tsunami waves.

Rosie stopped to sniff around and soon we were walking as a group again. I’m sure Dave didn’t notice my sad condition because happiness was altogether elusive back then.

We reached the center of the large open field as my thoughts swirled. I had a severe ache inside my soul. I missed our boy so much I thought I might die. As tears began to well up in my eyes again, I diverted them towards the ground hoping to spare Dave the trauma.

When I looked down, at my feet was a little yellow flower. I plucked it from the earth. This was not just any little yellow flower.

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We Feel You…

Facebook Post:  March 23, 2017

You bought this longboard very shortly after we got the news about the cancer and the challenging treatment plan you faced. One of the first questions you asked the doctor was if you could still surf. The doctor said there would be times when you probably wouldn’t be up to it because you might be too weak. He said, though, that it would be a good idea to stay active.

Well, that’s all you needed to hear and you made sure that the doctor repeated that statement with me in the room! I told the doctor he should probably define “active.” We all laughed, somehow, on that dreadful day.

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Loving God by Serving Others

Pictured above are: (left to right) Matt, Ian throwing double shakas, Mr. McGivern, Justin and Jake. Also participating in the 2010 Majuro Mission were Cyndi, Danielle, Jan and Quinn. 

This post is dedicated to Ian’s Maryknoll School 2010 Mission Trip compadres and the good people of Majuro.

YOKWEH YOKWEH! Hhaha i was going to try not to use internet on the FIRST DAY up here but since ou wanted me to mom, I will:) The trip was good everything went well and im typing this on an old very laggy computer in the school so sorry about the mistyping hhaa. Anyway its pretty trippy how different it is up here…its super hot and hard to stay not sticky for more than a minute. The room we stayed in the school last night had rats running around and roaches jumping and flying into big holes in the tile, but other than that it was pretty good fun! Haha…plus brushing my teeth and washing my face off this morning was a challenge without any running water and using only my bottle for water hah but it’s a good wake up call to use less water when im at home in the mornings! I’m staying with Matt at the principal’s house for the majority of the time…but one of us might get another host later in the trip. Well hope things are good at home and I miss all of you guys! Ill try to catch up on sleep tonight, despite the stray dogs running around barking at each other all night around here haha bye love you guys! Talk again soon -Ian

It was Ian’s senior-year mission trip to a tiny island in the Marshall Islands called Majuro, where eight Maryknoll School students taught summer classes at the local high school. The living conditions were rough by anyone’s standards. Icy rain water catchment showers, stray dogs and, as Ian described them, radio-active sized critters crawling around his head at night.

When Ian applied for the privilege to participate that year, he had to address his ability to adapt to unfamiliar and potentially difficult situations. He didn’t lie when he said that he believed he was up to whatever situation arose, but I don’t think any of them could have been completely prepared for the reality of life on this tiny atoll. And, while they did a lot of preparations to be ready for the trip, there was a fair amount of culture shock upon their arrival there.

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Grief Stalks Me

The voice over the car radio promotes a Champagne Brunch. The word Champagne sticks. And, it festers. Champagne. Champagne. Champagne Ponds…on the Big Island. Where we took turns swimming to literally keep our sanity while you lay nearby in bed at the naturopathic treatment center – fighting for your life. Fighting for the chance to one day swim in the Champagne Ponds. Our salty tears forever mixed into the Champagne Pond.

Champagne Brunch. I change the channel on the car radio.

I walk by the television and hear World Surf League commentators analyzing the pro-surfers in the line-up.  I didn’t even know the contest was “on”. Our lives once revolved around WSL events – like other families’ lives might revolve around baseball or football. And, when John John hit the line-up, it was time to stop the presses. Drop what you’re doing. An adrenaline rush for JJ’s #1 fan. You paced the living room floor and yelled at the TV if the judges didn’t get it right.

I hear the WSL commentators, but I have to keep walking.

I run into the store. Just looking for one thing. A quick in and out. There she is struggling with the zipper on a piece of luggage. Two young sons hover nearby. Actually, they hover right over her. Perhaps trying to be helpful. Perhaps not. She’s engrossed with the suitcase. The boys are being mischievous. Just little boy stuff. She’s oblivious to their wonderful presence. Just caught up in her task. I wish she’d notice how adorable they are. How wonderful. How precious. She continues to struggle with the zipper.

I turn my gaze away from the woman I don’t know; the woman I can’t stop thinking about for hours.

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A Lasting Legacy in Jeremy

I recently heard the following saying:

They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.

I don’t know the author of this saying, but I find it to be profound.

I believe in eternal life and wholeheartedly know that life goes far beyond this world. Yet, I get the gist of this saying and, from an earthly perspective, it rings true for me.

I think, in part, it’s what compels me to write this blog, share stories about Ian and speak his name whenever I can. Could there be anything more torturous to a mom and dad’s soul than to think that their child will be forgotten?

A few days ago, we were given a monumental gift.

Our nephew Kellen and his wife, Jazmine, gave their beautiful newborn son a special middle name. Jeremy Ian Kaimana Ventura-Ho. Each part of this great name carries special meaning. Of course, they had me at “Ian.”

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