I have many, many fond memories of my favorite Obaachan (Grandma). When we were growing up in New York, she would send us gift packages from Japan. Oh, how we loved to receive Hello Kitty, Little Twin Stars (Sanrio) pencil boxes, pencils and sweet-smelling erasers! During the 3 childhood summers we visited Japan, Obaachan's tiny little house in Yaho (in western Tokyo) was our home base. When I smell things like mosquito coils (katori senko), or hear the sounds of cicada crickets (min~min~min~), or walk across train tracks by foot, I get vivid flashbacks of those days.
In 1986, when I was in high school, we spent a summer in Japan. Obaachan was always independent, holding two part time jobs. The first was selling and delivering Pola (brand) cosmetics. She always applied her lipstick perfectly with a little brush- something I never got into! She was so strong from delivering heavy bags of cosmetics to her customers. I actually remember arm wrestling with her that year and being blown away by her strength. Her other job was selling kimonos in the old city of Kawagoe, just north of Tokyo. She'd say that with this job, you get better as you get older- people trust an older lady's advice when they are buying things like a traditional kimono. She continued working this job until she was 89 years old!
In 1990, after I graduated from Cornell, I spent 3 years in Japan. During my first year, I commuted from Obaachan's house in Yaho to my school in Yokohama. I guess I was 22 and she was 76 or so. At the time, I wasn't sure if she was taking care of me, or if I was taking care of her. I guess you can say we watched out for each other...until the long commute (and her blasting the radio taiso (exercises) on at 5 am every morning) prompted me to find my own little apartment in Yokohama. Still, every Thursday, after my own advanced Japanese classes, I took the Nanbu train line to Yaho. I taught English at a school a few blocks from Obaachan's house and then we had dinner together. Winter was cold in that house, but I enjoyed eating mikan (Mandarin oranges) while sitting under the blankets of the kotatsu (hot brazier), a quintessential Japanese experience. I feel so lucky to have had that opportunity to get to know my Obaachan.
By 2004, Obaachan was about 90 and semi-wheelchair bound, but still had a lot of spunk. When Aunt Etsuko was helping to get her passport renewed, so that she could attend our Hawaii wedding, she asked, "Obaachan, the passport office wants to know if you want to get a 5 or 10 year visa to the US. Which one do you want?" She said, "Get the 10 year!" Gotta love her!
The last time I saw Obaachan was just last year, when we received Naina in July 2009. She was bedridden after a fall and injury. Mentally, she was still mostly there, although she had periods of incoherence. She definitely remembered me and understood that I was there with our new baby. You could tell that she was delighted to see us. When I pointed to Murali and asked her, "Do you know who this is?" She said, "Yeah.. He's Nana-chan's father." Not bad, for 95 years of age. We took a walk with her in her wheelchair around the block. During her final years, my Aunt Etsuko took care of her out of her home, while she went to elder day care, several days a week.
Obaachan died in her sleep on Sept 26, 2010 at the ripe age of 96. She is survived by her 4 children: Kazuyo (Haruka's mother), Keizo, Etsuko and Yukio; 8 grandchildren; and 7 great grandchildren. She was so loved by her family. I feel a sadness in my heart and think that Japan just won't be the same without her. May she rest in peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment