Flotsam, Jetsam, And Other Recollections.

Flotsam is described as debris in the water that was not deliberately thrown overboard, often as a result of a shipwreck or accident.  I believe that we all carry bits of flotsam inside. In our souls and hidden deep. Pieces of a life that we do not remember, small flashes of memories that aren't ours.  Maybe we also carry impressions of where we are from. Geographical locations where we were created. Anyway, I like to think so.  

Last June, Erik and I traveled to Seoul, South Korea.  Coming back to the United States, we had a layover in Narita, Japan. Sadly we did not have enough time to leave the airport, and a part of me was quite sad.  I was born in Yokosuka, Japan, in nineteen hundred and sixty two, in the Year of the Cat. Some lost part of me wanted so badly to step outside that airport, and just take a huge breath. Feel the soil beneath my feet.  Maybe to feel like I had come home.  

Home is a strange word.  It can mean so very many different things.  The house you grew up in, the faces of your children, and the arms that hold you when you return from a far away place. I have seen people yearn for home in the past. Where parents are still with you and maybe life was a bit more gilded.  And it is all of those things to me, in increments. 

There are concrete things that I know about myself.  I am short, brown haired, brown eyed, and blood type A negative. I am agnostic, emphatic, and I am in love with a man named Erik.  But there are so many things I do not know. I have been blessed enough to travel and see so many far away places.  And some of those places, I have stood in and thought, this feels like home to me. 

Last February, I went back to Seoul.  I finally got the opportunity to hold my new grandson, Alexander Michael. And yes, he is a part of my "home".  When you hold a child or a grandchild, you get to see all of it.  Your parents, grandparents, siblings, and those who belong to others, who are now part of your life. I hope that some small part of him will remember me coming to see him, a distant memory that his adult self will feel.  I also hope that he will make his way back to Seoul.  Created and born there, he can take that breath of air, and feel that ground beneath his feet.  

On my flight back to the US, I stayed in Narita for 24 hours. Yes, I got out of the airport this time, and decided to take the opportunity that presented itself to me. Locked up my large luggage, and caught the train from the airport. Trekked the "10 minutes" that the hotel website assured me it would take, and tried my best to conquer this huge language barrier. 

The next morning I headed out by 8:00 am. Determined to see all I could in a short span of time.  I walked down the Omotesando Road, in Narita. Walked past shuttered buildings, finding my way.   I found the Temple at the bottom of this winding road, with the sun lighting the grounds.  Up too many steps to count, back down through the woods. Ponds, paths, and everywhere just the most serene spaces. I came upon another temple with a kettle out front, burning incense. Flotsam. There it was. The smell of sandalwood and patchouli. A smell I have been drawn to for as long as I can remember. I have several friends who abhor the smell of it. One is catholic. She says it reminds her of church, of death. Maybe a memory from when I was young? Not so much. We attended church sporadically and never a Catholic Church. All I can tell you is that it was spiritual. 

Outside a temple, there was a wooden rack with pieces of paper tied around it. They are called O-mikuji.  Flotsam again. The o-mikuji predicts the person's chances of his or her hopes coming true, of finding a good match, or generally matters of health, fortune, life, etc. When the prediction is bad, it is a custom to fold up the strip of paper and attach it to a pine tree or a wall of metal wires alongside other bad fortunes in the temple or shrine grounds.   In the event of the fortune being good, the bearer has two options, he or she can also tie it to the tree or wires so that the fortune has a greater effect, or they can keep it for luck.  Strangely I have done this with a tree in my yard.  It is covered with well wishes, and thoughts for good.  Again, maybe a memory rearing it's head, but I cannot recall ever seeing one.

In my basement, is a Army footlocker with my Father's name.  Inside is a plethora of ephemera from our residence in Yokosuka.  Not my memories.  They belong to Dottie and Jim, my parents.  My parents took advantage of the opportunity to discover Japan, with trips to Temples, Sumo Wrestling, and day excursions.  The pictures of them in their travels, were all before I was born, and none of them show my Mother obviously pregnant.  I am sure that all I saw in Japan was the house on the Base Installation.  My passport picture shows a baby girl, approximately 4-5 months old, too young to have harbored any memories of what I was feeling in Narita.

Do I carry flotsam from a time when I was not Lori?  There is no way to say for sure.  I sat by the pond at the Temple, and contemplated all of it.  I felt a calming presence, and I spoke aloud to my Mother and Father, and thanked them for all that they gave to me, starting with my life.  I like to think that they were there with me.  My Mother laughing at me for returning to Japan, and my Father encouraging me to see more than what my eyes present to me.  Yes. Flotsam.

Dearest Alexander Michael....

Dearest Alexander Michael.

The day you were born, I breathed a bit easier, and my heart healed where there had been a small crack in it.  You are a child conceived in love absolutely.  But also a child conceived in the heartbreak and pain of too many lost babies.  A child that held the possibility of being the glue needed to mend broken hearts.

You did not disappoint. From the moment I got the first picture of you, and held this crazy electronic device that allowed me to see you, 6700 miles away, my heart seemed to fuse together.

I was lucky enough to have 3 beautiful babies.  All born full term, and ready to wrap me around their little fingers.  Easy babies.  Home from the hospital and immediately onward, with the help of my sister, Mother, and in laws.  I never had to question if I was doing everything okay.  There were plenty of people to tell me if I wasn't.

When I came to visit you in South Korea in February, that crack mended itself.  Just this little peewee of a baby, you seemed to know me right away.  Actually this story started out about you, but really it is about your Mom.  She is my middle child, and her personality is completely that.  Her older sister was the best child.  We could take her anywhere, and she would sit and look at a book, or toy, and would be occupied with that.  Your Momma came along, and she was like a hurricane.  There was no taking her anywhere she had to stay still.  So determined. she walked at an early age, because I think she knew there was a whole big world she needed to see and getting there by crawling was just not an option. Funny?  Yes, we were sure that her goal in life was to make us laugh, and she did.  When her younger sibling came along, she was the one that "mothered" her.  Made sure that she had what she needed, and would sit and hold her hand while she slept.

She is musical.  You are going to need to remind her of that when you are older.  You are going to have to ask her to play the songs that she knows on her oboe, flute, and her whistles.  Keep at her, because sometimes being an adult is tough and you lose part of yourself.  She is also incredibly smart.  She can repair a car, she taught herself how to do it.  She also taught herself to sew, and is so crafty.  All of those things in your room she put together.  She also knows some airplanes inside and out, and she can fish like nobody's business.  Again, she is incredibly smart, and you will need to ask her about these things.  When she was a teenager, there was a time that I didn't like her very much.  Sometimes her independence got in the way of logic, but hopefully she will remember all of that when you are a teenager, and it will help her understand you.

But you know what?  She kept "growing up".  And once we got past that bump in the road, we became friends as well.  And she wanted a baby more than anything, she was determined.  And what's funny is that you are just like your Momma.  Determined.  Yes, just a little peewee of a baby, but there you are holding your head up, and trying to figure out how to move those legs forward.  The only time that I have seen your Momma falter, was in February.  She was so scared for you.  You came along and you were permanent.  She was not used to that.  Because you were born early, you had to stay in the hospital.  So your Momma and Daddy, had to come back to the hospital to see you. You had tubes, and alarms, and wires everywhere.  These things would make a seasoned parent quiver. But your Momma?  She figured it out.  Figured out how to talk to caregivers that did not speak the same language. Learned how to put a feeding tube in you.  And she did all this without any help that new Momma's usually have.  And you are so very lucky, her love for you is enormous.

So today, when she comes to wake you and you are already awake in your crib just hanging out, think about all of this,  And wish her a happy Birthday. because Birthday's are so very special.  She will tell you that. and give her that half smile.  The same one that she has.
 
And tell her how much I love her and could not be more proud of who she is.  Tell her that Nene said "Happy Birthday, Pookie".