The day started like any other. First, I dropped off my wife at work, then my daughter at school and finally made my way to the UH-Manoa campus.

As I drove up University Avenue, I noticed that the Varsity Theatre sign no longer announced the latest film. Instead, it relayed a simple message of thanks for years of patronage: "Aloha and Mahalo." Varsity Theater had gone out of business.

It wasn't long before I considered the other closings going on around town: Flamingo restaurant and Star Market in Kane'ohe, Villa Roma at Ward Warehouse, Masa's Plate Lunch in Liliha, and of course, nearly every bowling alley on the island.

To be honest, I do not know why these businesses are going the way of the dinosaur. Perhaps Mom and Pop have simply had enough of the daily grind; they have done the math and decided to enjoy that long-deserved retirement. Maybe the kids are not willing to tend the family store and Mom and Pop are not willing to hand it over to someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, the cost of doing business in Hawai'i has grown too difficult for those of us from Hawai'i.

I miss my "massive plate lunch" and the smell of alley conditioner on a newly dressed bowling lane, but more than that, I miss the people. In nearly every case, we formed a relationship that grew over the years, like a bonfire on the beach that starts with a snap and crackle and eventually turns into a gentle warmth that you can feel under the skin.

While I miss the people, I suspect I am losing more than a few friends — I am losing a part of myself, too. Who I am as a person is inextricably tied-in to the world around me.

When I go to Villa Roma and Sheri helps me pick out a birthday dress for my wife, I become part of a larger story. When Sheri and I catch up on each other's lives, our stories entwine, and each is validated by the other. When the store closes, the book closes, too.

I remember the first time I left the Islands. The sheer scope and scale of the Mainland blew me away. It seemed like everywhere I turned was something new and different.

Even while I appreciated the uniqueness of the places I visited, I learned that my Island home was unique, too, and its people special. The best part of Hawai'i was that we were not like anyplace else.

As the small businesses close and are replaced by national chains, I wonder about my daughter. What will it be like for her as she travels the globe, only to find that she comes from some place that looks like every place else? How will she know who she is?

To be sure, we are more than our shopping experiences, and Hawai'i has much to offer beyond its mom-and-pop stores. We have the beaches, mountains, music, baby lu'au and most importantly, the people.

Still, more than money exchanges hands when you buy your theater ticket. You may find that the movie is the story of your life and the theater is your Island home.

I, for one, am not ready for that movie house to close just yet.

Michael C. DeMattos is a member of the faculty at the University of Hawai'i School of Social Work. Born and raised on the Wai'anae Coast, he now lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs and two mice.