Some places never leave you.

This summer, after years of dreaming about it, I was able to buy back my Tutu's old home in Puna on Hawaii island. It had not been in our family for the last 21 years. For the last two weeks, during our family's summer break, we have spent our days restoring the property together—cleaning, repairing, clearing overgrowth, and bringing life back to a place that holds so many of my memories.

Returning to the place where so many of our family's memories began.

As I walk through the yard each morning, I find myself thinking about my childhood. I remember gathering flowers, making lei, listening to stories, and spending long afternoons surrounded by family. This home was more than a house. It was a place where generations gathered, where laughter filled the air, and where our connection to one another and to this ʻāina was strengthened every day.

Familiar branches growing within a place filled with family history.

One of the things I remember most vividly are my Tutu's pua melia trees.

Years ago, her yard was filled with many varieties. There were pink pua melia, white Singapore pua melia, white blossoms with yellow centers, and deep red flowers blooming throughout the property. Their fragrance carried through the yard, becoming part of the memories we made there.

Today, only two trees remain.

One of the remaining trees, quietly carrying the marks of time.

The pink blossom tree continues to bloom, a beautiful reminder of the past. The second tree is still a mystery. It is struggling, covered in lichen, and has yet to produce flowers. Each day, I carefully clean the stems, clear away the growth around its base, and do what I can to help bring it back to health. I don't yet know what color it once was, but I am hopeful that one day it will bloom again and reveal a piece of the story that has been hidden for years.

This experience has made our recent Pua Melia 2026 print even more nostalgic and meaningful to me.

Like many of our prints at Kahulaleʻa, it all begins with a memory. The artwork was inspired by the pua melia trees that surrounded my Tutu's home and the beauty they brought to our family's lives. Every pua melia print we create honors that special place in Puna—a place filled with love, family, and generations of stories.

The trees that inspired our Pua Melia print continue to tell their story.

Looking upward through branches shaped by decades of growth.

Standing beneath these trees today, I realize that restoration is about more than repairing a property. It is about caring for what has been passed down to us. It is about honoring the people who came before us and ensuring that their stories continue to live on.

As we work together as a family, pulling weeds, cleaning old stems, and nurturing new growth, I am reminded that love leaves its mark on a place. You can feel it in the land. You can see it in the trees that continue to bloom after decades. You can hear it in the memories that return the moment you step onto familiar ground.

This home, these trees, and this ʻāina have shaped who I am.

A blossom carrying the color, fragrance, and memory of home.

As we continue restoring this property, I hope these remaining pua melia trees will thrive once again. I hope new blossoms will emerge where there are none today. I hope future generations of our family will run through this same yard and create memories of their own.

Most of all, I hope that this place continues to tell its story.

A story of family.
A story of love.
A story of coming home.