HOW TO LIFE

At four and half years old, I was still living with my Obaachan in the little apartment in Chofu, Japan. Adjacent to the kitchen area was a living/bedroom area with a tatami floor where I spent my evenings after dinner and before the futons were laid out for bed. In winter, when it was cold and damp, a heater stood in the middle of the room on which sat a water kettle filled with water. By the time dinner was done, the water in the kettle was boiling and steam was coming ou

But I’m grown up now. I’m now over 60 (had my birthday). Most people I know my age, and even younger, have lost their parents. That’s the natural order of things. So now, finally, I’m normal. But, when a parent passes away, fond memories and a connectedness are still there. This, with parents, I don’t have. But, again, I’m lucky. I do have five years of fond memories and connectedness with my Obaachan who dearly loved me. I spent every day with her. I am still familiar with o

Although my father made me half Irish, I was completely Japanese. Japanese was my first language. My Obaachan was pre-war Japanese. I had two uncles, my mother’s brothers, who got married during that time, and my new aunts were part of the family affair that raised me. My favorite activity was dressing up in kimono. But, I was biologically only half Japanese. I was bigger than other children my age. My features were obviously mixed. I don’t really know how it is today in Jap

My grandmother called out as she searched the apartment and apartment complex looking for me. What she didn’t know was that I had gone to school. For my 4th birthday, my grandmother gave me an O-Bento (lunch) Box. Little did she know that every day, I would go to our apartment balcony, watch children walking to school and yearn to go with them. But I didn’t have an O-Bento Box. The day after my birthday, without disturbing anyone, I got up, dressed myself, and with my new O