Mom

Mom made one of her yearly whirlwind (this time) tours. Given mom's age, you'd think she would slow down, but I'm still trying to keep up with her. So I was the one who got sick, vomited from motion sickness, felt tired from the bus and the smog and the markets, and she was the one, still wanting to walk, shop and everything else.

Things have improved much since her last visit (fall 2010) in our lives overall, so I felt different about saying goodbye to her, but the distance is long, as any expatriate will tell you, and to know that your child is living far away from his or her grandparents (in Keohi's case, both directions--Europe/America) makes one reflect upon the influences of various generations on a child's growth. My grandmother lived far--in Hawaii, while we were on the Mainland growing up. And my other relatives in Korea. Visits were infrequent. We were a modern nuclear family--kids and parents. No grandparents. No cousins, except on visits.

Also, was thinking about my parents' household and the climate that my mother created based on her own varied interests which were everchanging and never dull. She was, until very recently, (with my father) the type of person who threw regular parties for 50 people featuring string quartets in our living room. There were people from all walks of life who entered our house--of every ethnicity, background and country of origin. People from various countries from Asia to Africa to Europe came through to work in my father's lab or simply visit and my parents loved meeting and hearing about everyone's culture and experience. Growing up, I remember being entertained by once, a play performed at the bottom of the stairs, adults dancing to whatever pop tunes, watching from the top of the stairs as they played a parlor game, and always, classical music from of course, the children in the neighborhood, every one of whom was expected to have played, or did play a string instrument. Randomly there would be Korean fan dancing, Hawaiian ukulele from someone, and my father singing along to some opera at a very high volume. Mom would throw down Korean or whatever type of food and people in general, had a good time. They learned from each other. They had fun. They tried new foods. They laughed. My parents could make magic happen in their living room.

Only several years ago, I had someone tell me that they learned much from my parents, from the parties they threw, from the people they invited into their homes. While my father was and is an active research scientist and physician, my mother's educational and other projects were outreach of a different kind, but as I understand now as an adult, no less significant. It takes a special type of person to introduce lives and worlds to people, to have people meet and intersect and enjoy each other. I certainly do not have this ability, nor do I have this patience, but mom enjoys it and does it well. From her, we learned to appreciate food from every culture, art, music and intellectual exchange. My father is about scholastic pursuits and achievement and outbursts of creativity. My mother is about seeing that in life, there is an art to the everyday.

Thanks Mom.