The sorrowful message came with the soft rain that blanketed these islands yesterday morning: Hawai'i had lost a great and beloved leader.

Nona Beamer was called "auntie" for respect, but her love for Hawai'i, for the Hawaiian culture and for the people of these islands was more personal and constant than auntie love. It was mother love. It was the love of a dedicated matriarch, a devoted nurturer.

Auntie Nona wasn't afraid to tell people that she loved them. It wasn't an affectation or a quirk. If Auntie Nona told you she loved you, she truly loved you for who you are and not because she had a generic kind of love for all people. Her love was specific and it was deep. She cheered people's accomplishments, celebrated their triumphs, cried for their losses.

And like a good mother, she cared enough to point out wrongs, to fight against injustice and to expect corrective measures. She wanted the best for Hawai'i, and when she saw the culture insulted or resources misused, she stood brave as a warrior to fight on behalf of Hawai'i keiki.

She was strong without being strident, gentle while undeniably powerful. She was beautiful and brainy, compassionate and creative, genteel with a rascal sense of humor. She would sometimes giggle like a schoolgirl with her hands covering her mouth and her eyes twinkling. She would often laugh so hard she'd have to dab away tears behind her glasses.

Her body of creative work alone is stunning in its breadth and depth. She composed music, wrote books, choreographed hula. But she was more than a Hawaiian music icon, she was an academic, she was a leader and she was our conscience.

She was able to speak the truth in a way that didn't offend or alienate or polarize. She took on the big topics and believed it was better to speak your mind than to not make waves.

You could always trust her judgment: if she was angry about something, she had a good reason for it. If everyone was in a tizzy but Nona Beamer shrugged or laughed it off, then it was no big deal. If she lent her name to a project, it was a solid endeavor. She was our Seal of Approval, and for so many things that happened in Hawai'i, we turned to Nona Beamer to tell us what to think and how to react.

Even in recent years, she remained a force. Though suffering with her own health ailments, she organized prayer efforts for others. She taught at son Keola's Aloha Music Camp on Moloka'i in February. She kept up correspondence with friends, always encouraging their endeavors, applauding their good work.

We have been fortunate that her children shared Nona Beamer with us. She was a wonderful mother to us all and her lessons, and her example, will carry on with us for all our lives.