Memories, Gifts & Surprises

A few posts back I talked about my Aunt Maki. This post has been brewing most of the summer. However, I have been too busy to write it. I decided today is the day to release it from that chamber in my mind that kept it from disappearing into my forgetfulness.



One of the clearest memories I have of my Aunt Maki is from around Christmas time in Mississippi when I was a little girl. I did not share this memory in my previous post. Mostly, because it is a random memory that only holds significance to me. You know how sometimes you remember something that appears to be completely unimportant yet there it is year after year just as clear as the year before. Nevermind the fact that I often can't remember what I did last week! Anyway, I digress. This is one of those memories.



Get ready to be completely unimpressed with how little I actually remember of this little but clear memory nugget. When I was a little girl my Aunt Maki was the antithesis of everything I knew and understood about people, culture, and especially my father's family. It was Awesome! We usually went to Mississippi about twice a year to visit my father's family. This usually was around Christmas and the Fourth of July. I have to admit, with the exception of the time we spent gathered around singing hymns together, I really really did not like going to my grandpa's house. (One of those reflections that show me how self-absorbed I was as a youngster). The exceptions to the boring, hum drum of these visits always included my Uncle Eddie, next his children, then on at least this occasion, his wife, Maki. My Uncle Eddie was also the antithesis to the rest of my dad's family. He was so unconventional, knowledgeable, and FUN and his presence could fill the entire house. I don't remember much in the way of conversation with my Aunt Maki. For one thing, when I was younger she didn't speak English. In fact, that's what stands out most in this memory.

So, here's the nugget: I remember being in my grandpa Mitchell's kitchen with my Aunt Maki. She is handing me a gift and saying something that I do not understand. She repeats the same thing over and over and each time getting a little louder. This frightened me. I held the little gift in my hand unsure what I was supposed to do. I wasn't even sure if the gift was for me. Someone eventually came in and facilitated the gift exchange. I don't remember who. However, I do remember my fear instantly melting and being ecstatic that I was getting a gift from my exotic and exciting Japanese aunt. My imagination was exploding with the thought of what it could be (a Japanese fan or a cool trinket). I slowly opened this spectacular surprise...I reached in...I felt around...then I dumped out the contents to find what was inside and out fell a pair of socks. About that time my Aunt Maki said the same word over and over again and I'm guessing she was telling me she got me some socks.

That's the end of the memory, or so I thought.

After my Aunt Maki passed away my cousin Sharon brought by several items from my aunt's home for me and my children. My Japanese inheritance you could say. I picked up all these great gifts which were in Japanese boxes and bags. My kids were outside playing so I was able to pour over these gifts on my own. Suddenly, I was a little girl again. I slowly and methodically opened each bag and box. All the containers had Japanese writing on them, with each item I unwrapped I could feel myself getting younger and younger and filled with more awe and fascination. Sharon had truly given me a valuable inheritance from her mother. Among these gifts was a beautiful Japanese tea set with an elaborately carved wooden tray, two pair of geta (wooden clogs), a t-shirt, and delicate handkerchiefs. I sat at the table and stared at all the beautiful gifts. I soaked it in. As I began cleaning up my mess, I decided to neatly fold each bag, because of course, I want to keep anything with the Japanese writing on it (haha). My kitchen table became clear and with the exception of one last bag, everything was in a neat stack. When I got to the last sack I realized there was something left inside keeping me from a flat fold. I unfolded the bag and held it upside down to check the contents from inside...and out fell a brand-new, still in it's plastic wrapper with Japanese writing, a pair of socks.