Farewell to Charlene
Coming to terms with the loss of a beloved friend who graced my life for nearly half a century.
by Carol Canter
Charlene was my first “local” friend in Hawaii. We met at an anti-Marcos rally in Honolulu’s Aala Park in 1976, barely a week after I arrived from Oakland for a “visit” and stayed 9 years.
She was one of the reasons why.
She embodied what was beautiful, unique and magical about Hawaii, often called the Aloha Spirit. Her compassion, creativity, intelligence, energy, and drive were part of the equation. Her love and kindness underlay it all. She was able to see the best in us all, and knew how to nurture it.
We were raised in distant worlds — Hawaii plantation to New York City and suburbs. But the heart and soul connection was instant and never wavered. It was love at first sight and remained thus to the end.
I earned an MA in French Literature and became a professional travel writer, but she could “talk story” around me and anyone else in sight.
She earned her Masters in Public Health and became an effective health educator, lobbyist, and unwavering activist and advocate for the underserved in Hawaii, including her own Filipino community.
Early on, she worked a side gig with a small group of close colleagues to train health care professionals about Fertility Awareness. When she left the islands to move to Chicago, she encouraged me to replace her in teaching her 2 sections of the course: the “Anatomy and Physiology of the Female Reproductive Cycle” and “How to discuss Sexuality” with one’s partner. Dismissing every argument about my lack of “academic training” in such matters, she prevailed — as she always did — because of her sincere belief that I (or anyone else she nurtured) could rise to the occasion.
In the same way, she joined with several other friends to turn me into a runner. And so a group of us ran the 5 mile Diamond Head Loop most evenings at sunset. I helped turn her into a swimmer, as we joined to swim out to the windsock and back at our favorite beach — Kaimana — at the Diamond Head end of Waikiki.
Charlene and I shared countless adventures of every kind, from the down ’n dirty mud fight we had with our friend Bobby Toda at Palama Uka Camp near Haleiwa when we were still young and single, to the support we offered one another on relationships, childbirth and child-rearing.
We ran the gloriously gorgeous 52-mile Hana Relay as members of the first all-women’s team, Makibaka Movers, arriving hours after the winning team in our bright red pickup truck (thank you brother Freddie!) bedecked with eye-popping heliconia and fragrant ginger. Our team name “Makibaka” is the Tagalog word for “coming together in struggle/working for change,” a term embraced in the Filipino American community representing empowerment.
Many years later, Charlene and I also came in last in a Waimea Bay Swim on the North Shore of Oahu, forgoing speed and our usual competitive drive to talk story while swimming about a heart-rending breakup that wrecked one of us the night before.
When our kids were teenagers, they and their friends joined us to swim with a wild pod of dolphins off Oahu’s Leeward Coast. We were all so enthralled with this communion at sea that we neglected to notice how far offshore we had drifted, so gently and lovingly. Luckily, we were all strong swimmers, so when I alerted the group to look back at the distant shoreline, we were able to power swim back fast, with minimal panic. The panic came but a month later, when we were all safely landlocked. After reading in the local newspaper about a shark attack in that very location, Charlene called to tell me how lucky we were, concluding with a wise “Never Again!”
I could go on and on, but my heart is heavy. I feel her loss deeply, while filled with immense gratitude for the gift of her presence in my life. She transformed it in so many unexpected, deep and magnificent ways.
