Ain't Mama Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy

She's the last one to go to bed at night and is always the first one up in the morning.  It seems she never sleeps and yet it's easy to catch her snoring in the massage chair after dinner.

I opted for homestay rather than seminar house to force me to be social and actually speak Japanese.  With Okaasan, I definitely succeeded in the former, but the latter remains unfulfilled.

My Okaasan, Tsurue Shimizu, is 59 years old but she hardly acts it.

She dyes her hair (Otousan helps), which is completely white otherwise.  In three and a half months, I've only just realized this--she keeps on top of the growth.

She's frightening behind the wheel of the family's brand-new Mitsubishi; drives too fast down the narrow residential streets in a vehicle that's entirely too big for Japan.

She isn't phased by much at all.  While I've had the pleasure of living in her home, she's broken a toe and dislocated her shoulder--twice.  None of these instances were emergencies, though, she and Otousan piled in the car and drove out to the hospital in Kobe for treatment.

She has two daughters, Maki (34) and Misa (27), and a grandson Konta (3).  She calls them her treasures, and the way her eyes light up when she's surrounded by family proves how true that is.

She's a trouble-maker and isn't afraid to poke fun at her family.  Otousan was sitting a few feet away on the couch when she told me he had a bad brain.  Despite knowing almost no English, he still scowled at her.  Her body language gave her away--she cringed away from him with an open-mouthed smile in my direction.

She knows how and when to laugh at herself and her mistakes.  We were in one of our impromptu English lessons and I was helping her perfect the pronounciation of "murder."  She couldn't stop laughing when I finally explained my concern over her previous utterance sounding more like "mother" than "murder."

I've only known two things to trip her up, and they're things that anyone would stumble over.

I came home one night and there was incense burning by the door.  She was sitting at the table, translator in-hand, waiting for me.  She'd spent the day looking after Konta because his parents had spent the day in the hospital.  Maki had had a miscarriage.  She was slower that night, seemed to act her age and show that wear of life.

The second time was when she found out Konta has autism.  He's still young and doesn't exhibit dramatic symptoms, so she still had the hope that it won't be a debilitating case.



Photo taken by Misa

 People stereotype the Japanese housewife as the cornerstone for the home, but it really is true.  Without Okaasan, the house would be in all sorts of disarray.  That she can be that strong and stay so happy is something I admire and strive to nurture in myself one day.

She does appreciate it when someone else makes dinner for once, though!