Posthumous Hapa

The matter of Dad's remains is a morbid and tragic one, and in the many years since his "interment," I've avoided thinking about it altogether, because it is as painful as it is irreconcilable.

I find the constitution to write about it now because--in a morbid and tragic way--his memorial(s) are a pure and perfect metaphor for the enigma that is my ancestral identity.

--And tingeing this narrative with a drop or two of black humor is appropriate and accomodating, as it alleviates a bit of the lugubriousness and conveys the high level of absurdity.

Dad left all permanent Hawai‘i residency in 1959 when he joined the military, and from that year on, he was a career soldier. He saw Vietnam twice. He served the country as a drill sergeant for almost 20 years. After his retirement, he continued to serve in the public school system instructing ROTC and leading competitive drill teams.

His love for the military was second only to his love for martial arts. He was born to be a soldier. He lived a soldier's life. He died a soldier, and it was his wish to be buried as one, "back home in Hawai‘i at Punchbowl."

For as long as I can remember, when he spoke of his remains, he spoke of Punchbowl, and his intentions were understood by all of us, his generation and ours.

When he died, he'd been living in Texas for more than 10 years, with his 3rd wife. She was a Texan, and he was--by then--a Texan, too. (But as all expatriates know, no matter to where one is eventually transplanted, he will always be kama‘aina.)

So, Dad died, and two family lines came to mourn him: the Texan side, and the Hawaiian side (which was comprised of mostly Hawaiians-transplanted-to-Texas anyway).

Dad was cremated, and--naturally--plans were made to fly his ashes back to Punchbowl where he would be laid to rest, as he wished, with full military honors.

Events, however, did not unfold as expected. The Texans (Texan-Texans) had never been to Hawai‘i, and had no reason or plans to ever visit Hawai‘i. Texas was their home, and as Texans, they felt Dad--a Texan as well--should be interred--where else?--Texas.

The Hawaiian-Texans protested: Dad's wishes should be respected.

But to the Texan-Texans, What was Hawai‘i to them? A foreign (and somewhat legendary) place halfway around the globe. It made no sense to send Dad way over there. He should be at home, in Texas.

A bitter battle ensued, the center of which was a little plastic container bearing the ashes of a wanted man.

Neither clan was willing to budge, so it was decided Dad would be parted: half to the Texan-Texans, and half to the Hawaiian-Texans, to do with as they saw fit.

Many weeks later, in Houston, Texas, 21 guns fired unto his memory, and the Texan-Texans lovingly paid their respects and said their goodbyes over plot C-1 D 23. His memorial at Houston National Cemetery marks the place where lies exactly half of Vietnam Veteran Harold R. Laranang, Sr.

Many months later, in Honolulu, Hawai‘i, 21 guns again fired unto his memory, and the Hawaiian-Texans lovingly released exactly half of Vietnam Veteran Harold R. Laranang, Sr. into the catching winds of Punchbowl.

In Hawai‘i, however, there is no evidence the man was ever laid to rest there, as the United States military allows for the erection of one memorial per veteran. For Harold R. Laranang, Sr., said memorial stands in Houston, Texas.

To this day, I have visited neither site. Needless to say, I have no concrete closure yet, have not really--for any purposes--said goodbye.

I don't believe in restless spirits wandering the Earth, but if I did, I'd have to say my daddy is one of them. I sometimes wonder--if he were a ghost, would he be more transparent than most? because he is--

(I could've made a pun there, but I admit that is pressing the limits of decency.)

I used to remain in a constant state of torment over that, for a long time. But there is not a single thing to be done about it.

There is, however, an important lesson to be learned from this experience: Organize a comprehensive funeral directive. And put it in writing.

And maybe one more: If you want to be interred in Hawai‘i, don't die in Texas.

Comments

Don't die in Texas? Living in Texas sounds like an adventure in itself! (Austin, perhaps, might be exempt.)

The dividing of your father's remains is an unusual and sad story, but at least the divided family were able to come to a solution. Battles over final resting places have often left ashes or even bodies in limbo for years!

Yes, things could be worse (amazing, isn't it?). And of course, the story did have its moral(s). If I can help it, I won't be living or dying in Texas. That's a little too much adventure for me. (But Jerry Springer might dig it, huh?)

It sounds like your dad knew what he wanted. In our passing we have a choice on where we want people to remember us. Your dad valued Hawai`i. It is his resting place regardless where his ashes are.

I find it very disappointing that they did not respect his wishes. I see so much of this kind of behavior happening with families who do not respect their loved ones' last wishes. For pete's sake, it's their wish whether it's in writing or not! Unfortunately even putting something in writing doesn't guarantee it will be followed. These are the times you have to put trust in your family to follow your wishes. I'm sure your father's spirit remains in the islands as Burt says.

It's disturbing, isn't it? We all know where he truely belongs...all in all, he's still alive in our hearts, we keep him living. One day his memorial will be in Hawai'i. I'd like to see to that. Iolani and Rogelio will be old enough to understand pretty soon. Hope is not lost. One of my life's goals was set when Dad was split into two states, that's to fulfill his final wish. If Iolani and Rogelio understand, it's a done deal, and I will see to that. I've come to feel that it's my resposibility to get in contact with those children and retreive the lost limbs of our family. We're so small, but we're so big. We have a lot of young ones around, and you know they're bound to understand. It's Laranang, it's required.

Don't die in Texas...sounds like a book.

Elise Tiara Laranang
"Hoku Palinekeki"

Dear, A'ilina, Corey, & Tiara

Its been a long time now since i have seen or talk to the great Msgt Laranang. He was my mentor as well a father figure to me. I have tried so much to imulate your father. I have been in the Marines for 14 yrs now, and the memorie i have of Sensei are my guide to survival. Im sad i could not see him before he passed. I know that he is with us now and forever. I have not been to Texas for some time due to the tempo of my job, but when i get a chance i will look you all up. Whether its Punchbowl, or The Lone Star State, Harold Laranang is a giant; walking the earth.

As for Andre K. Bosier and myself, I too have had the chance to meet and learn from Msgt. Laranang. He introduced me to various things of life that my own father could not. All the great memories of learning and training under him was second to none. I know that he is proud of everyone of you and all that encountered him. His memory will always be in our hearts.

We're all part of the Laranang family. I studied KaJukenFu Budo Kai-Kan Kenpo Karate for many years!! From Tony & Kay Cason to O'Sensei Roy Adams to Sensei Romulus Roquemore. We're all one Kenpo family. We're all extended members of the Laranang family.

Love you all ... I was astounded to learn the breadth of HR Laranang's influence and inspiration after his death. I was then and am still now warmed by comments like Doug's, Eric's and Andre's. I'm so glad he was able to be that for soo many young people.
Aloha ...

I spent much time under the mentorship of Harold Laranang -- literally at his side and knee for many years. I often listened as he spoke of "home" -- Hawaii. He yearned for home. That he is literally interred in Texas is transitory, much like still being in the military -- he's just there until his permanent orders come through. Those of us that truly loved him know that his home is in Hawaii -- and nowhere else. One day he will return to the only place he ever called "home."

My maiden name is Laranang and I live on the Big Island of Hawaii. I read your storyand am very impressed with your composure and your patient attitude towards all involved. I hope and pray that one day you can find the comfort, peace and the closure your dad would have wanted you to have in your life.

God bless.

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