Pearl Harbor Day

Today (well, technically yesterday if you are going by the actual date) is kind of a tricky date to be living in Japan.  For the most part, the Japanese and I dance around the topic of WWII.  We are more concerned with cultural exchanges and modern topics.  But every once in a while I run into a history buff or an ojiichan who has had a drink or two too many and the topic comes up.　This year, with the 70^th anniversary of the atomic bomb drops, increased talk of militarization within Japan, claims of revisionist versions of history, and the violence all around us, this topic has come up a little more than I feel comfortable with.  For the most part there is no bitterness or hatred.  Japanese people are peaceful and kind.  But the subject does make me uncomfortable.  Especially today.

I have only told this to one Japanese person – my grandfather was on a ship in Pearl Harbor.  Before he met my grandmother.  Before he brought his new bride to America.  Before my mother was born.  Before all of that, he stood on the deck of USS Hull, watching hell rain from the sky brought by planes with the rising sun painted bright red on their wings.  He never talked much about that day.  I guess that is the way with most soldiers.  

I can’t imagine.  Hate would be easy.  But Popsie was never one to hate.  And that is what I choose to take from this anniversary (and every other day).  Hate is easy.  Fear is easy.  Forgiveness is hard.  But it is not impossible.  Popsie forgave.  When his daughter decided to move to Tokyo with her husband in 1970, he encouraged her.  Others questioned her decision, but not the man who had seen the worst of the Japanese.    If he were alive when I decided to follow in Okasan’s footsteps in 2014, I am sure he would have showed the same enthusiasm for my choice.  Because Popsie always believed the best about people.

Today is not hard for me because I hold any anger over the events of that day so many years ago. Today is hard for me because I realize how close I came to not existing that day.  Today is hard for me because I love these people and this country, but I can’t help but be reminded that a faction of them do not feel the same way about me.  Today is hard for me because I cannot tell my Japanese friends about Popsie because I don’t have the words.  Today is hard for me because I see Japan, America, and the rest of the world falling to hate and fear.  Today is hard for me because Popsie is gone.  Each year there are fewer and fewer Pearl Harbor survivors to teach us about forgiveness.