A death in the family

Aunt Keiko, my mother and Uncle Hide, the surviving Araya siblings. I don't have a recent photo of my uncle who died Monday.

This morning, actually, it was early Tuesday morning, the phone rang. We have caller ID and it was an unknown number, so we let it ring. My mother checked the answering machine and it turned out that it was my Aunt Keiko, my mother's sister.

I dialed the number and handed the phone to my mother.

She was calling to let us know that our uncle, my mother's oldest brother, had died.

When we were in Japan, we didn't visit him in the Araya family home in Odate because he was sick and in the hospital. We learned later that he was pissed because we did not visit.

Oops. But really, he was in the hospital and my mother didn't feel that we should all troop in and visit. In hindsight, perhaps we should have visited.

Aunt Keiko said she wasn't up for the trip to Akita, the prefecture (or state) where he lived. So her son, Kenichi is going. My Aunt Mizue is hampered by a bad back and she can't really take a long train trip up north. So her daughter, Hiromi, is going. And my Aunt Teruko, who lives in Kobe, is frail. Her son, Hiroki, is going.

Of course, my mother can't go, and neither can any of us.

We'll be there in spirit. The funeral is Friday.

I knew him, of course, but I saw him when I was very young. I saw him again in 1992, which was my first visit to Japan in 22 years.

I remember sitting in his living room with his wife and daughter, my mother, Aunt Keiko, my mother's friend from Los Angeles, Mrs. Okada and my cousin, Kotoe.

I was showing him pictures of us in America, including photos of my father.

I knew that he had never approved of my mother marrying my father. And that my father took her away to America. He also never forgot that he was asked for his blessing. He was the oldest male and the head of the family.

But as we passed pictures around, he turned to me and said, "I'm sorry I never met your father. He seemed like he was a good man." Of course, he said that in Japanese, and he meant to say it to my mother, but he told me. I glanced at my mother and she was tearing up.

That broke the ice.

A few years later, he came to Columbus to visit us. I think he really had a great time.

I'm sorry I didn't get to see him one more time.

I guess what I'm trying to say is take every opportunity to see the people you love because you never know when that person will no longer be there.