Roots

My parents met in New York forty-two years ago. They were in their early twenties, both from Japan, staying in a boarding house across Central Park. My mother had recently arrived via Germany, where she had been an au pair for a Chinese family (confusing, I know). My father was traveling around the world with friends.

My mom boasts that there were several choice young men to choose from back in the day (she claims to have been proposed by an African prince), but my father was by far the best-looking. Well, he must have worked his charm as well, because they were married within three months of meeting. Four decades, three children, many world trips later, they are still together, living in a sunny city, so very deeply settled into the fabric of each other.

My father told me once, a long time ago, that marrying my mother was the best thing he ever did.

Happy birthday, Ji-chan – here’s to another good year.