Shalom, Aloha… Shaloha!

Shalom, Aloha… Shaloha!

It’s such a beautiful word– in sound and in meaning.  And its essence honors my father, who died today, one year ago, as well as it honors my precious mother. Both wanted to be remembered by all the love and the helping hand they offered so often — and by what they left behind in their exquisite and meaningful art.  That was who they were.  Shaloha.

The bulk of my father’s artistic legacy is settled now in New York City, his home of homes —  in such good company.   Shipments, first from Oregon, and, more recently, from Hawaii, brought his images, books, publications, and correspondence to the most respected photography museum in the world: the International Center of Photography.  This happened because his friends Nakki and Brian were so patient with Bill and me and wanted to preserve and collect what he captured — from his travels, his Photo League days, and on through his years on Madison Avenue. It gives me great joy that he’s back in the city. The big island of Manhattan.

And so on this anniversary of his death, when I miss my father and mother as much as ever –I can’t help thinking that he also would have been delighted to hear that two of his nearly two dozen published books are also shelved and indexed in libraries here on this Pacific island. That’s right –George Gilbert’s in Hawaii.  He would have smiled the way he did and then asked me exactly how many are in my house?  I’d have told him quite a few are up on the top shelf in my office.  And that there’s a beautiful water color of a tree that he painted at an Air Force base in San Jose, one of the many places where he was stationed in World War II,  right above my desk now. Close as always.

Shaloha, as we say on this island. Peace, Hello, and Good bye.

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