In Loving Memory of Grandpa Masumchi Suzuki
December 24th 2014
Since Grandpa Mac's passing I have had some heavy-hearted days. Maybe I feel regrets because I was thinking of going there for Thanksgiving and didn’t. Maybe I feel regret that I didn’t know him on a deeper level. As I was driving to our cabin in Tahoe on Christmas Eve large snow flakes were falling and I began to think of Grandpa. There is a place near the cabin where a stream cuts through a large meadow. You are able to see the meadow opens up in front of you for a second or two before it disappears behind the pines. As I looked down at the snow covered meadow a large wind blew straight at me making the snow swoosh towards me creating a snowy worm hole through time and space. I began to weep as I felt him in the natural elements and decide I really wanted to return to my grandparents home one last time.
Sunday evening (Jan 11th, 2015) at the Detroit airport waiting to fly back to Santa Cruz.
The whole time at my grandparents house has been nothing but good vibrations. But, as I sit here waiting for my fight home, I’m flooded with with emotion as I’m learning to let go and hold on at the same time. It can be emotional knowing that I will most likely never return to the home that that Grandma and Grandpa raised Mom with her three sisters and brother.
My first memory was when I was a little boy probably around 4 or 5. I remember sitting at the table downstairs next to the sliding door. The early light streaming through the branches of the tall oaks. The early morning was quiet and calm as I was bursting with curiosity and excitement gazing at the electrical vibrating football game.
I spent my 26th birthday there too. I was going through a difficult transition in my life at that time, and yet in their home I found peace, happiness and stability. I also saw through my cousins eyes Sarah, Megan, and Brandon how nice it would be to live so close to Mac and Zoe.
At the open house for Grandpa Mac memories from my new found friends poured out like a history book of a life well lived. I tried to soak up everything little drop of history, but there were so many time periods to remember and listing to everyone chime in lead us down sidebar after sidebar like falling down a rabbit hole of smiles and adventures. And as I sat back and took it all in, I realized that I found Grandpa, I found Grandma, I found Aunt Jane again and again and again as I listened to everyones stories. I realize everyone room is filled with thousands of memories crystallized in time space and as we walks through the house those feeling consciously or unconsciously are felt.
Its amazing how hard it is to say goodbye to this place. Knowing how I feel I can’t even comprehend how hard it might be for Aunt Kathy and Uncle Dan who have raised her own kids in the same area and has spent Christmas in Grandma and Grandpa's house for the last 50+ years. In a way, what the farm house was to Grandma is what what 805 Chase is to Mom, Anne, Kathy, and Kevin. Its hard to hold on and let it go at the same time.
As I walked through the house listening to the stillness I can't help but feel that every picture and every memento has a story or adventure behind it. When my grandparents lived there, they must have been constantly triggering memories. For example seeing Aunt Jane's Picture everywhere I’m transported to Wyoming where I sitting on the back of a horse miserable but so happy to be riding partners with Aunt Jane. I cling to those memories that over time seem to fade like an old photo.
This “unexpected journey” I took in order to get to know my Grandparents a little more despite their passing has turned into so much more for me. I learned that they live in and through us. And as I drove away I'm filled with gratitude as I look one last time at the fence-less neighborhood that seems to meander through the giant oaks and the snow laced ground absorbing all sounds creating. In this silence and in this breath I'm present, and being present is how you create eternal moments.
Your Grateful Grandson,
|The View Grandma would see looking out The Kitchen Window|
|Every time I walked through their garage door I would be reminded of the Farm's House Door. Look at the similarities!|
|"The Bagoda"of A religious building of East
multistory Buddhist tower with widely overhanging eaves separating each
level, erected as a memorial or shrine. I remember one questions on a IQ test asking me what one of these were.|
|Birthday Dinner at Benihana. Grandpa would go this weekly so in memory of him we went one last time.|