Matsuko Kokuryo

Dear All,

I am thinking of you as you celebrate the life and achievements of your mom. She will always be remembered in my heart as a dear neighbour who was constantly cheerful, a model of calm, at the ready with a welcome smile and a pot of tea to share with anyone who was visiting. Fondly, she occupies my childhood memories like a mother figure, too. Please accept my sincere condolences for your loss. Alis Volat Propriis (trans. She flies with her own wings)

In sympathy,

Dear Mama,

I hope you can hear me because I know you left your hearing aid at the hospital... We've been talking a lot about you this past week. Here are some of our favourite things about you...

*You are strong:

You had your first major stroke six years ago and spent months in the hospital since then. Even when you were sick and couldn't eat, you'd go down to the cafeteria just to browse and admire the food. In that one year, you were in the hospital for a fractured pelvis, tumour in your stomach, and the first in a series of strokes. Each time you bounced back, and nurses, doctors, friends and family all recognised your toughness.

I remember how much you practiced the instruments; until it was perfect and then a lot more just to be sure. You played air-shamisen in the car, at the airport, in the airplane and even lying in bed. You once told me what you lacked in talent, you'd make up for in determination.

*You are humble:

You had such a low estimate of yourself and would have given everything to your children and grandchildren if they'd accepted it. You kept a lot inside and never really let your pain or sadness show. I suppose that's what moms do, but it also made it easy to underestimate you. Recently, you'd apologise for not being able to do anything; you felt like a burden. But in fact, your work was finished -- your work is seated in these pews and filling this room. And it was our turn to take care of you.

*You are beautiful:

Of course the skin creams helped, but I'm talking about your thoughtfulness toward people around you. Calling at 6 in the morning on the weekend because you had a dream about us, and wanted to make sure we were alright. Work was always good if it was busy and, even as adults, you'd remind us to eat our fruits and veggies for vitamins C or A or D -- "It's hel-shi!" In every conversation you'd ask about our friends, by name, and their families. I remember in high school when my friend and I walked downtown because she didn't have bus fare. You said I obviously should have brought enough money for the both of us!

And it's not just this week that we'll remember you. Whenever I hear a lady clear her throat really loudly, I'll listen to what she has to say. When I hear a 'yokkoisho' or 'arama' I'll go and help out. And we'll take good care of Papa, so don't you worry about that.

So, Mom, Grandma, Matsuko -- thanks for everything! For the hours, the days, the years you put into raising us, teaching us, protecting and comforting us, and keeping all of us in good company. Rest well, you've certainly earned it; and we hope to see you again soon :)

Mrs. Kokuryo. The first time I met in Nara, Ojiba, 38 Moyà, your fast Kansai ben Japanese and lovely laughing voice made me feel very comfortable. Hope to see you again to hear your laughing voice.