Reading all of your stories about your moms made me think of one of my favorite memories with my mom. I posted this picture a few months ago, but it’s sitting on my desk and worthy of another story.

Let’s see — I was in my early 20s when this picture was taken. I was living in Osaka, teaching English and working for a church. I LOVED living in Japan. In fact, my mom was afraid I might never come home, so she called me every Sunday. I guess it would be different now with email, but our phone calls and paper letters were our link back then.

She came to visit me in April, at the height of the cherry blossom season. We spent the whole week in various places enjoying Ohanami, as the Japanese say. (“hana” means flower, and “mi” means “to see.”) You spread out a blanket under the cherry blossoms and enjoy a picnic. We traveled to visit friends in Tokyo and were able to stay in a little house, just the two of us. Then we took a train to Hiroshima, so Mom could do some research on the aftermath of the atomic bomb. She’s a high school chemistry teacher, and she’d been corresponding with a Japanese high school science teacher — whom we were able to visit.

Did you know that when a Japanese teacher walks into a classroom, the students all stand up and then bow to the teacher and say, “Thank you for teaching us.” We were of course in total shock. And they all wore sharp navy blue uniforms. A teacher is called SENSEI. If you study the Japanese characters (kanji), the character for “sen” means “before” and “sei” means “life.” So, if you’re a teacher, you’re a life going before your students. To be called a “sensei” is an honor, much the same as it was to call Jesus Christ “Rabbi.”

This picture was made in Kyoto, I think, in front of one of the shrines. One of the best things about living in Osaka is that it’s in the heart of the Kansai region, right in the center of Japan. Within a half-hour train ride, I could get to Kyoto, Nara, or Kobe, three of the most beautiful cities in Japan. I went to each of those places dozens of times. I had some kind of adventure nearly every weekend.

I used to be in such good shape back then — I rode my bike and walked everywhere, teaching about three classes a day in people’s houses or in jukus (after-school schools.) I also studied the Japanese language several times a week in various places. There were volunteer organizations everywhere that offered free lessons in language, culture, and art. I showed up for everything!

When my mom came to visit, she had to run to keep up with me. I didn’t even realize what a fast-paced life I was living. I had to catch the exact bus I needed to make it on time for my lessons, and if I was running late, I just had to jog or pedal faster. I never had to do housework or cook because I lived in a single room both of those years — one year with a Japanese family and another year in a gaijin (foreigner) boarding house. I ate most of my meals out — fast food in Japan means fish and rice, with a side of miso soup.

We spent a great week together, but what Mom was most interested in was, “Heather, when are you coming home?” She made sure I knew that I’d left a gap back in Georgia.

I thought about staying there forever. But, eventually, I came back home to fill in that gap. And I’ve been here ever since.