So now we’re in SoCal at my grandma’s house. She’s 94 and still kicking; I admire her high energy and good health. She and my grandpa were married for over 50 years and even though he’s been gone for a long time, she so clearly loves him. Their love story is inspiring.
They met when they were young and started “going around together,” as Grandma likes to call it. But when she was told by her mother that she was to move to Japan, she didn’t question it because that’s the Japanese way. She lived there for several years, during which time she and Grandpa lost contact. She was tipped off that war was coming and had enough time to make it back to the States. The same night she got back she attended a party and Grandpa was there. They picked up their romance right where it had left off.
Because of the Japanese internment that happened during the war they wanted to get married so they wouldn’t be separated. They were married on April 1st, 1942. A month and a half later the internment process began. My dad’s two oldest siblings were born in the camp.
I love my grandma very much and am so thankful I’m getting to know her in my adult life. Apparently her doctor tells her she’ll live to be 112 which means she’ll probably get to see her great grandchildren. Not necessarily by Jason and I since she does have two other married grandchildren.