Learning to Cook in Japan, I Fed My Family and My Sense of Self
The bento lunches the hoikuen expected mothers to produce were an exercise in artistry. But I didn’t care about making the perfect bento.
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In giving me her pendant, was my mother not only wishing me well on my journey but handing over our family’s story?
In my grief over my grandmother’s death, I derived solace from the idea that something could still be done to benefit her, that she hadn’t left us but was just in a different place.
I felt sure my grandmother’s stories, her faith in marriage, had no bearing on my life plan.
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It is not so much that these things are invisible as it is that people are trained to hide them, and society is conditioned to look away from them.
When I came to Laramie, I found the person I wanted to be. When I left, I took her with me.