She met the love of her life at Santa Anita Racetrack. It was 1942. After the bombing at Pearl Harbor the Japanese people living on the West Coast were ordered to pack one suitcase and report to an assigned Assembly Center. The racetrack was one of the centers. Each family lived in a newly whitewashed horse stall. She met him there. Both were barely 20 years old. He was nicknamed 'Hollywood' for his good looks, she, the youngest of four, longing for her own identity. Later each were moved with their families to Arkansas but at different Internment camps. They corresponded over the next four years and married at the end of World War II in Chicago after they were released from the camps. I admire Mom's fortitude, her gentle and kind nature, her ability to remain sweet and loving through hardships. I remember waking up early as a child to sit with Mom as she got ready for work. I sat in the steamy bathroom after her shower and watch her powder her face in a comfortable silence. To this day I am an early riser, long before the sun is up.
Beautiful story and memory you've shared here Irene. I am touched my your last memory of sitting in the steamy bathroom with your mother.
ReplyDeleteI've enjoyed looking through your other posts and really love your faces...
oh irene,
ReplyDeletethank you for this honoring. how mystical the passage ways from mother to daughter. you capture it all in your lovely collage painting and this story of love.
you have brightened my night.
I knew you would post something that touched me to core, Irene. When we were writing in a class together I remember you talking about the internment camps, which in my mind, is one of American history's great tragedies.
ReplyDeleteYour mom (and your dad) sound like such special people. You were raised with so much love.
Hope you enjoyed the art show and that you have a blast at Journalfest. See you next month.
What a beautiful tribute to your mom and what an incredible legacy she has left you!
ReplyDeletewhat a lovely story and how sad that era was! your picture draws one in! thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteIn some inexplicable way, your mother's spirit lives in me, for I am an early riser too...
ReplyDeleteWhat a tender story. Thank you for this remembrance.
This is a beautiful piece of art. I loved reading about your mom and your dad, and how they met. They sound like amazing people.
ReplyDeleteComing over here from Rebecca's place, this morning. Your offering here is luminous, in image and word.
ReplyDelete