Horror

When It's Your Own.

This past July, a dream came true for my son and his wife.  He was accepted into Japan's JET program, and posted as an Assistant Language Teacher at a high school in Fuji City on Honshu, Japan.

In January, they learned that another dream would come true in August.  Their first child.

My first grandchild.

It has been hard, accepting that I will not be a regular part of my grandchild's life.  My parents were a constant source of support for my boys, and I looked forward to having a similar experience with their children.  But, my own feelings were brightened immeasurably when I saw the absolute joy in his face as he told us the news.  And I celebrated with them, and felt it would be good.

As if that wasn't enough, he said he had some hopeful news about interviews for a new position in Tokyo, where my daughter-in-law's family lives.

My son has always been a hard worker, and has had some frustrations in his life.  I was so happy to see things working out so well for him (even though I resent the ocean between us.)

March 11, 2011.

I can't bring myself to post any of the photos of devastation.  I will settle for this one, of people trying to make their way home to loved ones, for that's what my children had to do.  One day they will tell us the story.  For now, I know they were not in Fuji, but in Tokyo when the quake hit.  Somehow they made their way to my DIL's grandmother's house.  It took hours for her mother and brother to join them there, but, for now, they are all safely gathered in the same place.

Re: Communication.  Since they moved there I've been grateful for the geniuses that developed our computer communication systems.  Skype and webcam have kept us close.  Last night and today our communications from the kids has come through posts on facebook via my son's iphone.  At work I had my computer on Al Jazeera's live blog.  American television is all about drama and income, even in times like this.  I appreciated the blog, for it was simply a continuous listing of updated facts.

My son tells us that for twenty or more minutes after the 8.9 quake (which lasted for five minutes), they experienced nearly constant aftershocks.  I read later that over 50 of these were 5.5 or stronger. 

I suspect that we here in the States are getting more information than they are.  I kind of hope so.  It's pretty scary here.  Every other person I ran into today had to expound on the possibility that any one of these hundreds of aftershocks could be the final straw that brings an already damaged building down on my child.  (Why do people do that?)

And, of course, I can't stop watching the reports of the nuclear reactors that may be melting down ala Chernobyl.  All I can do is cling to the "experts'" claims that - while serious - things are "contained."

This is a good man, my son, and his wife a good woman.  He spent three years teaching little kids in inner city Los Angeles before making this move.

I'm asking for a little help, here.