I approached Grandma because she was a quiet bundle of sadness. She started out with polite conversation. Then listened a while as I talked with her neighbor.
When she decided to jump in, there was no stopping her. She started with scolding me for being barefoot on a cool day, and for sitting on the cold stone floor instead of on the carpet.
Yes mother, I'm sorry mother, is this better?
Then, the long pent-up list of granny gripes. She tries to be considerate but her neighbor cleans at all hours of the night. She's alone and lonely. Young people these days. Back in my day. People should know better. Nobody to talk to. Cycle back to the top and list the gripes again. They're real concerns. But classic Grandma.
If we were in America, this is when the stale cookies and old coffee would be offered. If we were at Grandma's house, we'd have had some green tea.
We hardly talked about the disaster itself. But once she had finished her gripes and talked about her loneliness to her satisfaction, she softened and told me about her current hero.
Apparently there was a devout preacher in her hometown near the nuclear plant. She admires how many, many years he had continued to "believe in Christianity," as she put it. She thinks he must be 90 or so.
"He stayed to the end. Insisted on staying until everyone else had left. He stayed. I was afraid for him, that he might have gotten exposed to radiation. When he finally left, he went to a facility where they take good care of him. He gave so much. He called me on the phone and he's doing well. Oh I want to go see him sometime!"
We exchanged names and quickly found out we were both called Rei-chan when we were young girls. Grandma crinkles beautifully when she smiles.
A little while later, she picked up her bags and announced that she was going home now.
"But mother, you didn't get your relief goods yet."
She patted my arm. "I got a conversation. That's enough for today. I'll come back for the relief goods another time."
I saw her off. She had such a spring in her step that if she was 20 years younger, I know she would have been skipping.
Sure enough, there it was. The classic Japanese granny wave. Every five or six steps, she turned back and bowed and waved. Good thing she turned the corner at the next block. Only a dozen waves or so. I hadn't bowed that many times in a row in years.
Do me a favor, would you? Go have some stale cookies with your lonely Grandma. Eat Sunday dinner. Have too much cake. There's nothing quite like watching her revive. Even if her granny gripes cycle round a few times.
Two smiling Rei-chans. Life is good.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Routine?
Typhoon down south. Which means rainy days and no swimming pools, but that didn't stop the assistance center from filling up in the mornings.
I'm thankful that Kochi, my rugged home prefecture, is the one getting pounded by this typhoon. They're much better prepared to take it than the Northeast, even without the damaged buildings. The wind is still a bit stiff here, but not too bad.
Odd when the hustle-bustle of relief goods distribution becomes normal. Doesn't everyone have stacks of diapers to fit everyone from newborns to Grandpa, and boxes of clothes and shoes? Doesn't every wish list routinely include water, rice, tissues, and toilet paper? (Please Papa, move someone to send us more.) Isn't everyone excited to get some soft food for Grandma? Aren't dark blue Crocs (boxes and boxes of dark blue Crocs) the must-have item to make feet comfy for the summer?
Don't you listen to a retired deep-sea fisherman from the Bering Sea tell about his harrowing escape from the quake and tsunami, and about another narrow escape on the high seas? How he finally retired and settled down, how his house isn't all that bad (ignore his address--it's in one of the hardest-hit communities around), and how he's lonely because his kids and grandkids moved away because of the radiation? Don't you sit in silence after he tells of family friends who were washed away?
And don't you immediately follow that up with blowing bubbles with a toddler and watch her learn how to blow them herself? And hold a baby boy until he notices his mommy is out of sight and he starts squalling?
Don't you routinely scan the room for who's being quiet, and go sit by them and coax a conversation from its hiding place?
Thanks for tapping me on the shoulder and checking whether I'm OK. I missed a couple of days there because nothing was happeni...
Oh. Yeah. This isn't normal. How did I allow it to become routine?
I'm thankful that Kochi, my rugged home prefecture, is the one getting pounded by this typhoon. They're much better prepared to take it than the Northeast, even without the damaged buildings. The wind is still a bit stiff here, but not too bad.
Odd when the hustle-bustle of relief goods distribution becomes normal. Doesn't everyone have stacks of diapers to fit everyone from newborns to Grandpa, and boxes of clothes and shoes? Doesn't every wish list routinely include water, rice, tissues, and toilet paper? (Please Papa, move someone to send us more.) Isn't everyone excited to get some soft food for Grandma? Aren't dark blue Crocs (boxes and boxes of dark blue Crocs) the must-have item to make feet comfy for the summer?
Don't you listen to a retired deep-sea fisherman from the Bering Sea tell about his harrowing escape from the quake and tsunami, and about another narrow escape on the high seas? How he finally retired and settled down, how his house isn't all that bad (ignore his address--it's in one of the hardest-hit communities around), and how he's lonely because his kids and grandkids moved away because of the radiation? Don't you sit in silence after he tells of family friends who were washed away?
And don't you immediately follow that up with blowing bubbles with a toddler and watch her learn how to blow them herself? And hold a baby boy until he notices his mommy is out of sight and he starts squalling?
Don't you routinely scan the room for who's being quiet, and go sit by them and coax a conversation from its hiding place?
Thanks for tapping me on the shoulder and checking whether I'm OK. I missed a couple of days there because nothing was happeni...
Oh. Yeah. This isn't normal. How did I allow it to become routine?
Monday, July 18, 2011
Holiday
Just a lazy holiday today.
Long walks. Proper coffee. Conversations. Knitting. Painting prayer pictures. Being given cool color paintbrushes. Going to Mos Burger (the burgers are meat, no moss involved) to hang out and strategize. Watermelon sherbet. Lifey things.
Winding down on purpose, to be ready for whatever the new week brings.
-----
"And, my lad," said the blessed John, "do not let this slight and short relaxation of my mind disturb you, as unless it sometimes relieved and relaxed the rigour of its purpose by some recreation, the spirit would lose its spring owing to the unbroken strain, and would be unable when need required, implicitly to follow what was right." -- The Conferences of John Cassian. From Chapter XXI. How the Evangelist John is said to have shown the value of relaxation.
(Thanks for the quote Priscilla!!)
Long walks. Proper coffee. Conversations. Knitting. Painting prayer pictures. Being given cool color paintbrushes. Going to Mos Burger (the burgers are meat, no moss involved) to hang out and strategize. Watermelon sherbet. Lifey things.
Winding down on purpose, to be ready for whatever the new week brings.
-----
"And, my lad," said the blessed John, "do not let this slight and short relaxation of my mind disturb you, as unless it sometimes relieved and relaxed the rigour of its purpose by some recreation, the spirit would lose its spring owing to the unbroken strain, and would be unable when need required, implicitly to follow what was right." -- The Conferences of John Cassian. From Chapter XXI. How the Evangelist John is said to have shown the value of relaxation.
(Thanks for the quote Priscilla!!)
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Hearts
It's getting intense around here. Not that volunteers don't have our moments. But the local folk who have joined us to help out have their own set of raw pain.
One told me about some people in the shelters who weren't telling people where they got their relief goods and were hogging it all, and complained that it was discrimination and wanted to draw a line to prevent that here. We had a long talk about types of victims and people who have fallen through the cracks of the system. And why an attempt to close out the selfish would close out too many others.
Another who got invited to go somewhere with a staff member and said no. "I can help here because it's closer to the school than home. I have to go pick up the kids when another big quake hits. What would happen if it came while I was elsewhere? I'm not that peaceful yet. Maybe later, but not now."
A nuclear worker who tried reassuring a local woman with the facts got yelled at to stop talking, and accused of not having a clue what she's feeling.
The nuclear worker himself has guilt over somehow benefitting from this tragedy by getting such a generous salary. He's over-sensitive to thank-yous, and he's exhausted and edgy.
One local lady looks troubled but will flash you a fake smile. I call her on it sometimes. She calls herself on it sometimes. Slowly she's starting to talk about the tough stuff.
Another actively tries not to cry and spins everything to the positive. She suddenly rushed past me in tears the other day. I glanced over at a staff member and got the nod to check on her. We cried together for a while.
Pray for the hearts shaken by the tragedy. It's not just the landscape that bears the scars.
One told me about some people in the shelters who weren't telling people where they got their relief goods and were hogging it all, and complained that it was discrimination and wanted to draw a line to prevent that here. We had a long talk about types of victims and people who have fallen through the cracks of the system. And why an attempt to close out the selfish would close out too many others.
Another who got invited to go somewhere with a staff member and said no. "I can help here because it's closer to the school than home. I have to go pick up the kids when another big quake hits. What would happen if it came while I was elsewhere? I'm not that peaceful yet. Maybe later, but not now."
A nuclear worker who tried reassuring a local woman with the facts got yelled at to stop talking, and accused of not having a clue what she's feeling.
The nuclear worker himself has guilt over somehow benefitting from this tragedy by getting such a generous salary. He's over-sensitive to thank-yous, and he's exhausted and edgy.
One local lady looks troubled but will flash you a fake smile. I call her on it sometimes. She calls herself on it sometimes. Slowly she's starting to talk about the tough stuff.
Another actively tries not to cry and spins everything to the positive. She suddenly rushed past me in tears the other day. I glanced over at a staff member and got the nod to check on her. We cried together for a while.
Pray for the hearts shaken by the tragedy. It's not just the landscape that bears the scars.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Summer day
We were having a quake-laden day in the assistance center cafe. Many broken hearts. Then a group of five kids bustled in with their moms, wanting to swim in the pool while their moms got relief goods. One family had swimsuits. The babies had diapers and their birthday suits to choose from.
That left one second-grade girl in a light blue dress. She got to the pool and realized she couldn't swim. And the kids' swimsuits haven't arrived yet. Poor sad little shoulders.
So we headed to the clothing box in the relief center. She chose jeans and wanted the top to be cute. I was thinking more along the lines of a t-shirt and shorts, but alrighty then.
What does one do with a little girl in a new outfit she likes, heading to a pool? You eliminate the choice to stay dry. I lifted her into the inflatable pool and started a water war. She was soaked from head to toe, and the swimsuit crisis was over.
Didn't take long before they all decided to retaliate. "Get the auntie!!" may not be among the top five battle-cries to rally troops, but no matter. I promptly lost the war. So did two other volunteers.
And a three-year-old boy climbed back into the pool holding the open container of bubble liquid he was playing with. Wasn't long until all those kicking feet churned up a nice layer of froth. That's one way to guarantee cleaning a pool...
Normal summer day, with a kid-sized crisis. It's about time we had one of those.
Then a truck arrived in the afternoon with about 45 kid's bikes and 10 or so trikes. I smell adventure. This could get good.
That left one second-grade girl in a light blue dress. She got to the pool and realized she couldn't swim. And the kids' swimsuits haven't arrived yet. Poor sad little shoulders.
So we headed to the clothing box in the relief center. She chose jeans and wanted the top to be cute. I was thinking more along the lines of a t-shirt and shorts, but alrighty then.
What does one do with a little girl in a new outfit she likes, heading to a pool? You eliminate the choice to stay dry. I lifted her into the inflatable pool and started a water war. She was soaked from head to toe, and the swimsuit crisis was over.
Didn't take long before they all decided to retaliate. "Get the auntie!!" may not be among the top five battle-cries to rally troops, but no matter. I promptly lost the war. So did two other volunteers.
And a three-year-old boy climbed back into the pool holding the open container of bubble liquid he was playing with. Wasn't long until all those kicking feet churned up a nice layer of froth. That's one way to guarantee cleaning a pool...
Normal summer day, with a kid-sized crisis. It's about time we had one of those.
Then a truck arrived in the afternoon with about 45 kid's bikes and 10 or so trikes. I smell adventure. This could get good.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Worry
Jesus said not to worry. He didn't mean pretending it's peachy either. He meant it was unnecessary.
Like when an older lady was about to ride a friend's new bicycle home, and it was starting to thunder. I was never happier to see that the bike was missing a valve cap and had a flat. (We'll fix it. She had a ride home and stayed dry.)
Like that yellow bicycle. Mustard would have a tough time being more yellow. The bike was relatively cool-looking. But nobody wanted it. The red one and the bright pink one found homes quickly, but I couldn't convince anyone to take the yellow one.
When we were down to two bikes, a high-school boy chose the silver bike with the granny basket over the sleek yellow one. Uh-oh.
The last one was then assigned by phone, and the owner came to pick it up. I was beyond nervous. Until the man got out of his van.
His sneakers had bright yellow laces. The bicycle was going to the right home after all.
The assistance center folk were also learning the same lesson. There was very little left this morning to give. The staff had to buy water and rice to get the day started.
Then a couple of trucks arrived, one with rice, other food, and water, and the other with 100 futon sets (Japanese ones don't come with a wooden frame.)
OK. We get it now. Worrying is a bloomin' waste of time.
Maybe I should listen to Him a bit sooner next time around. Heh.
Like when an older lady was about to ride a friend's new bicycle home, and it was starting to thunder. I was never happier to see that the bike was missing a valve cap and had a flat. (We'll fix it. She had a ride home and stayed dry.)
Like that yellow bicycle. Mustard would have a tough time being more yellow. The bike was relatively cool-looking. But nobody wanted it. The red one and the bright pink one found homes quickly, but I couldn't convince anyone to take the yellow one.
When we were down to two bikes, a high-school boy chose the silver bike with the granny basket over the sleek yellow one. Uh-oh.
The last one was then assigned by phone, and the owner came to pick it up. I was beyond nervous. Until the man got out of his van.
His sneakers had bright yellow laces. The bicycle was going to the right home after all.
The assistance center folk were also learning the same lesson. There was very little left this morning to give. The staff had to buy water and rice to get the day started.
Then a couple of trucks arrived, one with rice, other food, and water, and the other with 100 futon sets (Japanese ones don't come with a wooden frame.)
OK. We get it now. Worrying is a bloomin' waste of time.
Maybe I should listen to Him a bit sooner next time around. Heh.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Bicycles
"And this ain't luck, it's love grace, right?"
"Right, Pops. The bicycles are right over here."
He's here every afternoon, diligently asking for supplies. Asked for a space heater for the winter last week, and we had one available. Everyone else is asking for fans. Best prepared evacuee I ever saw. I'd love to have a grandpa like him. He wanted a folding bicycle, but a regular one will do.
We had a conversation about luck and God's loving grace recently. His conclusion was that he could stay selfish if he considered it luck that he got a good supply source, but grace is generous and requires a response. His own conclusion. We barely pointed out that luck wasn't why we are here volunteering, and reminded him about God's love and grace.
He picked a silver bicycle and named it Grace. Who knows what his response will be. Whatever it is, it'll be diligent, intentional, and will benefit the people around him. Pops doesn't do things halfway.
Gentle Mom liked the pink bike for her daughter, but her son would be sharing it so she chose a silver one instead.
Three other middle-school and high-schoolers can ride to school. Two aren't sure they like that idea, since Mom was driving them every morning. But Mom needs to save on gas a while longer.
Shy Guy actually talks. He found a bike with just the right distance from the seat to the handlebars.
If only the people who abandoned these bikes in Yokohama could see where they ended up... Even the Yokohama city officials at the bike impound yard were smiling as we loaded the truck. We wanted to take 30 but only managed to fit 25 in the rented two-ton. There's plenty more where those came from. One phone call from Iwaki City and Yokohama will give us more.
A full day since delivery and we have only 11 bikes left. I'm guessing the city will call Yokohama again soon.
Love grace in the bicycle impound yard. Who knew?
"Right, Pops. The bicycles are right over here."
He's here every afternoon, diligently asking for supplies. Asked for a space heater for the winter last week, and we had one available. Everyone else is asking for fans. Best prepared evacuee I ever saw. I'd love to have a grandpa like him. He wanted a folding bicycle, but a regular one will do.
We had a conversation about luck and God's loving grace recently. His conclusion was that he could stay selfish if he considered it luck that he got a good supply source, but grace is generous and requires a response. His own conclusion. We barely pointed out that luck wasn't why we are here volunteering, and reminded him about God's love and grace.
He picked a silver bicycle and named it Grace. Who knows what his response will be. Whatever it is, it'll be diligent, intentional, and will benefit the people around him. Pops doesn't do things halfway.
Gentle Mom liked the pink bike for her daughter, but her son would be sharing it so she chose a silver one instead.
Three other middle-school and high-schoolers can ride to school. Two aren't sure they like that idea, since Mom was driving them every morning. But Mom needs to save on gas a while longer.
Shy Guy actually talks. He found a bike with just the right distance from the seat to the handlebars.
If only the people who abandoned these bikes in Yokohama could see where they ended up... Even the Yokohama city officials at the bike impound yard were smiling as we loaded the truck. We wanted to take 30 but only managed to fit 25 in the rented two-ton. There's plenty more where those came from. One phone call from Iwaki City and Yokohama will give us more.
A full day since delivery and we have only 11 bikes left. I'm guessing the city will call Yokohama again soon.
Love grace in the bicycle impound yard. Who knew?
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