A Weekend of Family, Friends, and Homesickness

This Saturday we braved the weekend traffic for a family birthday in the east bay.  Mimi's cousin, Lucy, was turning two and with the girl cousins currently well outnumbered on that side of the family, it was imperative that Mimi attend.

Here's the birthday girl, along with her Grandpa, Dad, and Uncle enjoying the beautiful weather.  The sunshine fit in well with the yellow themed party. 

The yellow theme ran to the food as well.  This was great news for the kids as they were able to gorge themselves on mac and cheese.  Yellow cupcakes followed.  They were very good.  So good, in fact, that Sumie decided to snatch Mimi's cupcake while she wasn't looking.  Poor, poor child.  Cupcakeless, Mimi decided she'd use the rest of the afternoon to get a little work done on the car.

On Sunday a friend of my mine from high school dropped by the house along with her husband.  They arrived around 2pm and we spent the next few hours catching up while taking in a few of the exhibits at the Academy of Sciences.

Back at home, while preparing chicken karaage (Japanese-style fried chicken) the relative calm of that serene afternoon was rent asunder with the arrival of Kae, Eddie, and Mimi's cousins Nana and Sayuri.  It was great fun, but now, having experienced three young children running at full speed in a 1,200 square foot home, I'm thinking Mimi might need only one brother or sister.

Around 9:00pm, shortly after everyone had headed for home and Mimi for bed, Sumie and sat down to watch a little of the 9/11 memorial services and dedications.  By 10:00 there were tears in my eyes.

Neither Sumie nor I lost anyone in the September attacks.  But they still hold a powerful sway on us.  That terrible day ten years ago, just before the events unfolded, found me in my tiny living room in Japan and Sumie at JFK Airport awaiting a mid-morning flight from New York to Tokyo.  I was watching the news in Japanese.  I couldn't understand much, but the pictures helped.  And that's when the newsflash came on.  One of the twin towers was on fire.  That was as much as I could make out.  Minutes passed.  And then live, on the screen before me, the second tower was hit.  What the hell was going on? 

It would be nearly 12 hours, and a very sleepless night, until I heard Sumie's voice confirming that she was safe. 

When I came to New York to live in August of 2002, the tragedy was no longer raw, but definitely present, particularly downtown.  There was still fear in the city, yes, but far greater was the pervading community of remorse, resolve, rebuilding, and rebirth.  Sumie and I lived in the city those ten years of regeneration following the attacks, and they were very special years.  Despite New York remaining a city famous for its contradictory human congestion and anonymity, there was definitely a shared spirit, a sense of recognition and fellowship, between those who chose to make the city their home.  New Yorkers may have a reputation for being rude, but if you're one of them, you know full well that your fellow New Yorkers have your back.

And so, when the tears came late on Sunday evening, it was not so much in response to 9/11, but just a severe bout of sheer homesickness.  It was a shocker.  I'd never experienced homesickness before.  Not when I moved to Davis for college, to Japan, or to NYC.  Sure, with each transition there were things and people I missed dearly, but never that urge of needing to return home.  At least until last night.  It was powerful and only now is it really starting to wane.

Don't get me wrong.  I love San Francisco and coming here to live near our family and friends was by far the best move we could have made.  But it's not home.  Not yet.  Manhattan, beyond being one of the great cities of the world, gave me my wife, my first career, my first home, and my first child.  No matter San Francisco's benefits, and they are significant and many, it will simply take time to accumulate the life experiences essential for turning a wonderful place into a beloved home.