Splashes of Memory
I am a baby. I am on Miyako Island. Obachan is dunking me into the salt water. I am crying and powerless. Everytime I come up, I see her face and hear her laughter. She frightens me with her deep, loud belly laugh, dark olive skin, unruly curly hair and her light bluish grey eyes.. This memory haunts me for many years. I tell Okasan about this years later and she says it’s not possible because she never returned to the shore since losing her 14 year old son when his ship was bombed by the U.S. during the war.
I am between 1 and 2 years old. I am in Pacific Grove, Carmel and Monterey. I see thousands of Monarch butterflies stuck to trees. I gaze for long periods of time. Papa rides me around on his bicycle. I am riding by the ocean. I sit there and watch the waves crash. On my 2nd Birthday, Papa takes me to the store and lets me pick out whatever I want for my Birthday. I know what I want. It’s a baby boy doll with a mouth and a penis and a bottle. I fill the bottle with water, squeeze the bottle into his mouth so he can pee out of his penis. I absolutely love my Birthday gift.
I am at 17 mile drive village apartments. I am 2 years old and I have a boyfriend named Stevie. He is 5. We play with his trains on the kitchen floor by his mother’s feet. She is cooking for us. She has long black hair down to her ankles. I love her. I love Stevie. We go outside and climb trees and chase each other. We like all the same things. One day, I go to the side of the road, pull my underwear down to squat and poop. Stevie runs to my mother to tell her, “Maiko pooped”.
I am 3 years old. Okasan returns to Carmel with a younger Japanese man and marries him. They bring Kimono and her new husband takes photos of us. They move me and Yoi to Japan. We are now in a very small apartment, all four of us. He doesn’t seem to be happy with this new arrangement. He dropped out of college to take care of Okasan. One day he left and never came back. I don’t remember Okasan ever shedding a tear over this. We just went on with our lives.
I am between 3 and 4 years old. I cannot breathe. I am taken to the hospital. They say one of my sacs in my lungs ruptured and air has no way to escape out my mouth and goes under my skin up my neck making my face puffy. I am put in a medicated oxygen tent. They tell Okasan I will not make it through this. I am observing the nurse through this plastic tent. I can see her blurred image through the material. She is talking and laughing with the nurse across from her who is also given the task of monitoring a sick child. My nurse was assigned the duty of giving me small amounts of fluids to keep my mouth moist as the medication dries me out. She has forgotten about me and is carried away by the conversation she is having. I am too weak to reach out and ask for help. I am dying. I am attached to this body that is failing me and I am fighting and resisting. I am tired. After some time, I give up the fight and let go. I release myself to the unknown place that I am being pulled into. It feels nice. Suddenly, I feel as though my air passageway opens up and releases air, and I am able to breathe in again.
I am somewhere between 4 and 5 years of age. I am again at a hospital in Japan. I am in a room with other sick children. I have a friend in the bed next to me. I don’t remember his name. I make him laugh and this makes me happy. His face is puffy. Okasan says he has a kidney problem. One day his bed is empty. Next memory, is of me and Okasan crossing the street. She tells me my friend has died. My little mind cannot fathom the concept of death; that he is not here. I will never see him again. In my mind I remember his face, laughing. He is trying to survive. I keep asking Okasan questions about death. None of her answers satisfy me.