Let’s Meet Again Adam Araiza

To you, Grandma:

The last time we were together was 13 years ago, February 23rd, 2004. I will never forget this date. I can still remember the phone call mom received about your death. The terror in her voice still haunts me to this day. The memories I shared with you are blurry, yet I still carry around a few recollections of our times together. I often remember moments when we’d get together at your house with grandpa and eat yakisoba and fried rice. Fried rice is still my favorite dish. Sometimes we make it at grandpa’s house, but it just isn’t the same. I miss your fried rice.

I realize now what a blessing you were to our family. Sharing little nuances of japanese culture with us like taking our shoes off in the house, using chopsticks, and Totoro.

I loved the way you flavored grandpa’s house, it reminds me now of a modern Japanese home: simple and clean with Japanese art draping the walls. I remember going into the house as a kid and feeling like I stepped into a different world. Grandpa still has pictures of you together in Japan when you first met in the late ‘50s. It makes me so happy seeing my youthful grandparents. When I’m looking at those photos, it’s like I’m seeing you and grandpa together for the first time.

Growing up I always wished I was more Japanese, But once you passed, I just went on living mostly forgetting about my culture.

I can recall one specific candy you would give us, they were little milk caramels called “Morinaga’s Milk Caramel.” Do you remember giving these to us? Whenever I want to chase the feeling of being a kid at your house again, I eat those little milk caramels you so lovingly gave us. The second the taste hits me, my mind is flooded with nostalgia. I try to eat them sparingly because I never want those feelings to float away.

I do remember seeing you on some of your worst days. When I was a kid I couldn’t understand what was happening, I only knew you were “sick.” But what was “sick?” I now ask myself this 13 years later. You were homesick, you never gave up your citizenship to Japan and you never properly learned English. You always lived in Japan even when in America. Japan was in your house, you language, your life. You created

またあいましょう。

your own comfortable world. But nobody came to visit your world and I’m 13 years too late.

Your world still exists though, it is only missing you. Grandpa kept the house the way it was during your last days. Everything in the house is exactly the same, your room, the pictures on the walls, and the smell of cheap soap still lingers in the air. I found all the notes and recipes you wrote to yourself in Japanese scattered throughout the house. I tried to read them but they didn’t make any sense. Not because my Japanese ability wasn’t good enough, but because you were writing everything in a weird Japanese and English mix. This put into perspective what the language barrier must had been like for you and I’m sorry. I think this was the moment I began to think about you everyday. I had never thought about it, the struggles you faced. I couldn’t get it out of my head. It was a very heavy thing for me to realize at the time, but very important that I did. Forgetting Japanese as well as English is still too much to think about. Such a dark hole with nobody but yourself, nobody to share your feelings with.

When I went through the tales of your past as told by the ones closest to you, grandpa and Aunt Karen, I could feel your loneliness. I wish I could have been there and told you everything would be okay. Moments when you felt discrimination, as if it were Mitsue versus America. The isolation you felt by not being able to speak English and nobody learning Japanese. The terror you felt when Cheryl, your daughter, died at 6 months old. The helplessness you felt when your mother died 6,000 miles away from you. No way to say goodbye. The way you felt unwelcomed, not wanting to become an American citizen. I learned from grandpa that you always kept your Japanese citizenship because you were proud to be Japanese and always thought you would one day go back. The day never came for you to return home.

I’m 23 years old now and I’ve been studying Japanese for the past 2 years. I’m majoring in Japanese in hopes of following you back to Japan one day. All the little Japanese things you introduced to us were all an attempt to bring Japan to us. It’s as if you left me a map leading to Japan. I finally picked

up on those clues and want to help you get back home. I’m proud to be the first in the family to start learning your native language and culture. It’s as if I’m continuing your journey back home. Everyday I am thankful you helped me find this path, it has given me much needed support in my life.

The rebirthed love I found for Japan came when I decided to revisit community college. The first time around I failed all my classes and dropped out. I didn’t have any dreams to shoot for, so I always kept the bar low in middle and high school. But school came so easy once I had Japanese to look forward to learning. Pushing myself for better grades in the subjects I didn’t like was all worth it because it helped me get deeper into Japanese Studies.

Everything I’ve been doing the past three years has been the result of your early influence on me. From the art that I consume, the clothes I dress myself in, and what I’m interested in pursuing in the future. I’m wearing your engagement ring to grandpa. I keep it very close to me cause it’s the last I have of you other than the fading memories. I hope it fits forever.

Japanese filled the place in my heart that you took when you left. I want to repay you for all that you have done and sacrificed for us. If only I could have been there for you to help drag you out of your lonesome world. I know now that you had always wanted to go back home and I want to guide us there.

The point of this letter was to tell you that I love you and I haven’t forgotten about you. Speaking Japanese with you at your grave just isn’t the same, I thought this would be better. One day we’ll meet again, but in the meantime, I will look forward to meeting you in dreams. I love you grandma.

またあいましょう 。 [let’s meet again.]

Adam Araiza, Anna Lee, Annika Karody, Beliz Urkmez, Cam Vernali, Claire Moon, Garrett Gregory, Héloïse Hakimi Le Grand, Jordi Ng, Joyce Ding, Kalena Tamura, Katerina Papanikolopoulos, Leslie Young, Marion Moseley, Peter Yang, Samuel Han, Shayan Saalabi, Stefanie Tam