If my mother were alive, she would have turned 99 years old today.
At age 19, she went into an arranged marriage with a man who was a decade older. Thereafter, both her older sisters believed that she was happily married. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
The sisters were completely fooled. My mother had become a great pretender rather quickly – just because she did not want to worry them, or her parents, about the reality of her marriage. There was no way out of it for her. Truth be told, complaining about him would have brought shame to the family. Such was the culture of Japan back then. So, she kept her silence and never complained about him. Consequently, my brother and I were the only witnesses to the tragedy of our mother.
Perhaps I had mentioned it in one of my monthly blogs. The domestic violence, perpetrated by my father, was precisely the reason my brother chose never to get married. He was afraid of hurting and destroying another human being the way my father had, especially someone whom he truly cared about. I highly doubt that my brother would have allowed himself to get drunk and hurt another human being. Then again, choosing to remain single was the only way he knew to be certain of the outcome. His conscience did not allow him to take a chance on ruining the life of another human being. Consequently, I have no nieces or nephews on my side of the family in Japan.
Going back in time further, from all accounts, mother had a happy childhood. Perhaps a bit spoiled, even, because of being the youngest of the three sisters: Shizuko, Yoshiko, and Teruko Tsushima, based on the birth order.
Every so often, she talked nostalgically about Hakodate in Hokkaido, the northernmost big island in Japan. Within the big island, Hakodate is located northwest of the southern tip. Perhaps the area brought back fond memories of her carefree childhood. In honor of my mother, sometime within the next few years, before it’s too late, I hope to visit there with my love.
Mother died 32 years ago due to pancreatic cancer. Perhaps it sounds strange but, when death came, I was happy for her. Why?
Because it gave her the only escape from the abusive man, that was my father, to whom she was married for 48 years. As in most cases way back then in Japan, her marriage to my father had been arranged by relatives, all of whom believed that it was a good match. Nothing could have been further from the truth. As of their wedding day, her life sentence had begun.
After her death, when I told one of her sisters (my aunt) about the truth of my mother’s life, she became furious with me, the messenger. She did not want to hear that her beloved little sister had suffered such violence and misery at the hands of her husband. She was unable to handle the truth. If I knew the outcome of my honesty, I would have kept my mouth shut.
I think about that incident every so often. Telling the truth would not have brought her back to life. It would have changed nothing except that I was able to, finally, get it off my chest. Growing up, I learned that domestic violence is a 24/7 cruelty, imposed upon those who do not deserve such life sentences.
I cannot fathom being married to a violent man, a monster, who had no idea how to be a decent human being when drunk. And to have lived the only life she had during an era when the abused would have brought shame to the family merely by refusing to stay in the marriage. As a young adult, she was deprived of a chance to enjoy a decent life. Instead, she became a prisoner in her own home with no way to escape – until her death finally stopped the violence.
After I had left Japan, I had often daydreamed about bringing her here to the U.S.A. after my father would have passed on. Sadly, however, he had outlived her – even though he was a decade older than her and consumed alcohol every night. She never touched alcohol. I believe frequent mental and physical abuse by my father killed her.
I still remember vividly how she was oh-so happy for me when I introduced my love to her. Only a mother could have shown such unconditional support for the special man whom I was lucky enough to have met. This was in the summer of 1971, roughly 53 years ago. By then, she was a very good judge of character. She knew that my love was the best husband I could have ever found anywhere in the world.
As a United States Air Force sergeant, David happened to be stationed in my home country of Japan. What were the chances of meeting someone, who was there temporarily from halfway around the world, who was to become my lifelong, loving partner? The only explanation I can think of is simply that the miracle happened thanks to “divine intervention.”
There is not a day that I don’t think of my mother. And I remain grateful that I was able to marry the love of my life, whom she approved wholeheartedly.
Happy 99th birthday in heaven, Mother!
