Remembering a Family Legacy

Whenever my family gathered together, all of my cousins gathered around Grandpa Iwataki as he told us stories of his samurai father and our heritage.  We would settle in around him in rapt attention after a day of running in his back yard.  He sat below the photograph of is father so from our vantage points as little ones, we would look up and see them both at the same time.  In his broken English we would  hear that family is the most important thing, that  his  samurai father was the leader of our clan.  I carry these stories in my heart. I pass them on to my son to remember always and remind him to think of the strength of his samurai great great grandfather whenever he has a difficult time.  I have visited my family gravesite nestled in a bamboo grove above a 400 year old Buddhist temple in Sakura, Japan.  The mother of the monk lit incense in a metal lantern and carried it as I followed her to the site.  If I close my eyes I can still inhale the smells, hear the rustling leaves, and feel the carved cold concrete gravestones.  Here is my grandfather on the left, his father and older brother.

Grandpa Iwataki immigrated to 'Amerika' in the early 1900's in search for a new life.  The feudal system in Japan had disbanded, the nobel samurai class no longer a viable lifestyle.  Later Grandma came in an arranged marriage.  She, an educated young woman, unusual for her time, came in hopes of the freedom she read was available to women here.  They pose in front of their house, the home my fondest childhood memories.

Thank you to all who have come here through the sweet Rebecca.  I have been out of town and not able to visit and comment on your blogs but will be catching up with you this week.