She was the most patient person I have ever known. Ever.
She remembered every holiday. She was so quiet that I almost felt I didn't know her...but I did.
She loved her family deeply. She raised my dad with only her parents and siblings to support her.
She was a strong woman, much more so than I ever understood.
She loved me. Her only grandchild from her only child.
She would laugh at me when I called "Yakisoba" "yucky soba".
Don't worry, the "yucky" did not hinder me: it was my favorite thing she made.
She is what makes me so proud that I am Japanese. She is the woman I want to be more like.
She bought me my first cassette tape that was not a "hand-me-down"...Debbie Gibson: Electric Youth.
She and my great-uncle (who my parents had to tell me repeatedly was NOT my grandpa) endured four hours of that cassette tape on the drive from L.A. to S.L.O.
My mom says I have her hands. It makes me cherish my hands.
Right before she died she said she saw me waiting for her. I wish I knew if she really knew the Lord.
I pray that if it's the Lord's will she would be with Him even now. Oh how I loved that teeny, tiny, quiet, and strong Japanese Obachan of mine.
To my Masako. I love you.
