In the diaspora it is almost commonsensical and automatic to invoke the meaning of this word when speaking about why you or your family are in the states, and why despite the fact that there are regular flights and decent opportunities on your island homeland, you aren't returning home. For these Chamorros, or even other people from Guam, who are out here, but feel ashamed because they left, lemlem becomes a way of jusitfying leaving and staying away. Although you can use lemlem to refer to how marvelled or simply surprised one is by something's changing, it can also be used to put down or show disgust or sadness at how something is just so drastically different and will never go back to the way it once was! You can find waiting in the discourse of nearly every Chamorro out there (and even sometimes on Guam), they will lament the changes that are taking place, how people are no longer close, how the island is so complicated and fast moving now, and doesn't run like it did back in the day at the pace of a bullcart. Ai linemlem yu' ni' taimanu ma tulaika Guahan, sen na'ma'ase.
Therefore, if you only listen to fragments of the speech of both Debbie Quinata, Maga'haga i Nasion Chamoru and Congresswoman Madeleine Bordallo, they might sound exactly the same. And because of this similarity of positions despite being on opposite ends of political opinion and ideology, it is very easy for the idea that things will never be the same to lose alot of its meaning or impact.
Island economies, island ecosystems are fragile, everyone must do their part in order to maintain them. We know this from our history, and the ways in which people had to always come together to help each other and help shelter and feed each other. One could not thatch your roof by yourself, nor plant your farm and feed your family by yourself, there were networks which helped you do it.