The Change of Generation

By Yoshie Abe

My mother is fifty-seven years old, and she is healthy and has a lot of energy. She wakes up early every morning and walks three miles every day. My parents have managed their own business. Even though my mother is busy with their business, she takes care of my grandfather, my father and my brother’s family. She is the center of my family, and everyone counts on her. When my grandmother had a stroke and could not move by herself at all, my mother took care of her all day for one month until she had gone. She said to me she was glad that she had taken care of my grandmother as much as she had, and she also said, “I was sad when I remembered your grandmother in her youth. She had a lot of dignity. When your aunt and I were children, she was very strict with us; however, she was also a thoughtful person. She taught me how to cook sushi and wear kimonos. After she had a stroke, I wished she could get well, but I knew she was too old to recover completely. Also, even though she recovered somewhat, she could never have been the mother I used to rely on a long time ago; however, now I needed to be her mother while I took care of her. It was very sad and complicated to see my parents getting older. You will understand it someday.” I could not comprehend that my parents would get old like my grandfather and my grandmother. Although it would happen to them in the future, I expected it would take more time.

Since I moved to the U.S., my family has always been concerned about me because they do not know about my lifestyle here. Even if I call them every weekend or send pictures that I took here, these do not work enough to relieve their worry. My mother is especially concerned about me; therefore, I tried to convince her to visit me in the U.S. because I believed that she could relieve herself from her worry after she met my wonderful host family and friends here. Finally, she decided to come to the U.S. after the New Year. I had not seen her since I went back to Japan during the last summer break, so I was very excited to see her. It was her first time coming to the U.S, and she came alone even though she cannot speak English at all. I believed she would be fine because she is a strong and curious woman despite her age.

At the airport, we were so happy to see each other again and hugged each other tightly. When I hugged her, I felt her shoulders were small and skinny. I thought she had lost weight; however, she said, “I have gained weight.”

“I felt you lost it.”

“No. I have gained six pounds since last summer.”

I thought I might have forgotten her figure a little because we had not seen each other for half a year. When I was a child, I often hugged her and felt her body was soft and strong. I guess I expected her body to be the same figure as in my childhood. However, this hug reminded me of my grandmother who had also become small and skinny when I hugged her in her later years. I was a little shocked about her change, but we were so excited to see each other again that I did not think about it much at the moment.

She had a big suitcase. When I saw it, I imagined she had brought many Japanese souvenirs for my friends and me because I had asked her if she could do so before. As soon as she arrived at my house, she opened her suitcase in my room to find some souvenirs for my host family. However, she did not come into our living room. When I went to my room to check on her, she was sitting beside her suitcase in confusion. She could not find her souvenirs and she said, “I put souvenirs for your host family together to find easily and give to them soon, but I cannot find them and cannot remember where they are.”

Finally she found them, but it took a while. I thought she forgot where she put them because she was probably too busy to pack her suitcase in a well-organized manner before she left Japan. The next morning she tried to find clothes and her jewels, but she could not find them. Watching her, I thought, “She might be still tired because of the long flight. I hope she will be fine tomorrow.”

Regardless of enough rest that night, she still forgot where she had put her stuff in her suitcase again. She said, “Recently I often forget where I put my stuff. I am ashamed of myself.”

What she said reminded me of my grandmother again, who often forgot where she put her stuff. At those times I helped to find them together with her. I thought, “Is my mother getting old? Is she becoming like my grandmother? She was not like this last summer. I didn’t think she could get old so fast.” I did not want to think about it and said with irritation, “Mom, don’t spend your time looking for your stuff; don’t put your things in each small bag, but put them together, so you can find them easily.”

Actually, what I said to my mother was exactly the same as I had always said to my grandmother when she lost her stuff.

Even though the stuff that she looked for was not necessary for her, she kept looking for a while. She was irritated with herself because she always forgot where she put her things and could not find them easily. Gradually, I felt sorry for her, so I helped her to find them as I did with my grandmother before.

While she stayed here, she needed enough time to be ready to go out every morning even if we needed to hurry. Not only did she spend time looking for her stuff but also she moved more slowly than before. I did not push her to hurry and tried to understand her; however, I was shocked by her slowness. In fact, it was painful for me to wait for her not because we needed to hurry but because I could not believe she could not act as fast as before. Even though her movements were not as slow as my grandmother’s, she had obviously gotten slower. To save time in the morning, I helped to set her hair. I had not paid attention to my mother’s hair well since she arrived here, but I was shocked when I saw a lot of gray hair. When I started to set her hair, she said, “I have a lot of gray hair, don’t I? I hate it.”

“I don’t think you have a lot of gray hair. You have less gray hair than others your age.”

What I said was true, but I could not tell her that her gray hair had been growing because she was proud of her black hair. While I was setting her hair, I imagined her black hair would be completely gray soon, and I felt sad with that.

Since my last visit to Japan, I felt she had grown older. Because I had not seen her in half a year, I could easily find her differences. Still, as my mother said, it is hard to think about our parents getting older because generally children want to keep their parents as reliable as they have always been. However, I need to be ready to accept the fact my parents will grow old as my grandfather and my grandmother did. The change of generation will come to our family soon, and she will pass the center of our family to me.