“Grief is the price we pay for love.” – Queen Elizabeth II

Why do birthdays or any milestones really have such meaning for us? What makes us attach such importance to a seemingly random day?

Dermot's birthday is here again, and I find myself reflecting on this. September is a brutal month for me; it's not only back to school, but it's a month of birthdays–– Dermot and Declan were born two days but seven years apart. They always celebrated their birthdays together, not because of the convenience it meant for us but because Dermot enjoyed that connection with his brother. He happily deferred to Declan every year on where they should go to dinner to celebrate (hibachi steak house I miss you). They recognized that their birthdays were more than just brothers sharing a particular event, they understood it meant they were family. It was the Brothers Birthdays.

I recently started re-watching the Hawaii Five-O series––it ended this year (please don't judge). We used to watch this in DC and even had a drinking bingo game that went along with it. These days it has a different meaning to me. I keep returning to a phrase that's used often in the series, Ohana or family. Ohana isn't just blood family–– it's your tribe, the ones who stand with you when you're most in need.

I have a Hawaiian friend––her parents were born there. Just as I have, she lost her mother, and she understands sometimes you just need a good cry. We share that bond of family, and she understood I needed that connection this week. I've lost so much of what I considered to be family these last few years.

I asked her to come over and watch The Descendants. It stars George Clooney and is set in Hawaii, the central theme being family and loss––or Ohana as they would say. She came and watched the movie––we cried and binged on chocolate chip cookies.

As we watched this movie together, I thought about how the meaning of family has changed for me. I used to believe that blood family was the strongest bond, blood is thicker than water, or so they say. As I've gotten older and experienced more in life, I've realized that the bonds that tie us together aren't about how we are related but how we relate to one another. Ohana is our tribe; it's those people who come into our lives and give our lives meaning––and they don't have to be related by blood.

So as I reflect on the milestone of Dermot's birthday and what his brief life meant to us, I say to those who were his and our Ohana––Mahola, or thank you. Thank you for being my family and for being here for me.