Rare birds

"Three months? What can you do in three months?"

She was singularly unimpressed. Compared to her 37 and 1/2 years in Japan, my trip is just a blink.

My mother, 82, is slowly but surely losing her memory. Which means each conversation is short and repeated a dozen times, with no assurance that it will stick.

Much of Japan's disaster did not register. The geography went fuzzy within seconds.

But one thing she knew:

"You know Nihongo! That's why you can go!"

Yes, that's a big part of it. I wouldn't speak Nihongo (Japanese) if Mother hadn't been in Japan. Thank you Mother.

"You're a rare bird. You speak Nihongo. You're a rare bird. Are there many like you?"

Actually, it seems the rare birds are flocking to Japan lately. A lot of bilinguals have joined the relief efforts.

"Are people who don't speak Nihongo helping? What can they do?"

Those of us who can speak Nihongo will help the ones who can't. There's lots to do.

She may not know about the disaster for long, nor why I'm going, nor what I'll do.

But one of her rare birds is going to Japan. That much she understands, for now.

"Take me with you?"

...

I left the fragile little rare bird sitting at the breakfast table this morning.

Pray for us rare birds. The ones already working in the disaster zone. Newcomers like me. Caregivers like my sister, who make going possible.

And the ones who cannot go.