They call her Auntie Jane

She's been coming to the live shows at the Manoa Surfrider Hotel every night for the last 30 years, a familiar face to all who work and play music at this legendary site.

Servers greet her with a warm hug and kiss on the cheek as she takes her familiar place to the left of the outdoor patio stage. Before, during and the shows, performers come and share a moment with her, reminiscing about the time they saw her last and thanking her for coming back again.

The father and daugher combination on this particular evening, my first on Oahu, stop midway into the set and introduce her to the audience as "Auntie Jane." And while the cerebral palsy she was born with may have robbed her of her motor skills, it did not touch her spirit. She can still flash such a wide smile, wave and form her fingers into a "hang-loose" sign that she excitedly shares with the crowd around her.

And oh, how she loves the music. Though strapped to her motorized bed, she gently sways to the beat. Seated alongside her, I grin and comment on how good the music is. She responds with yet another smile that has already grown on me and a broken, "Yeah!"

She is something, this lady. In the brief moments I have with her, I am reminded about the face of courage and what it means to embrace life. I think we all need those subtle reminders every now and then.

I stay a while longer, then get up to head back to the hotel. I lean over to Auntie Jane and tap her shoulder, telling her to have fun. Up comes the hang-loose sign and as I turn, I hope she doesn't catch the lump in my throat.