I was always the Tomboy. When Aunty Lois once spoke of me as "the girl who liked to be kind to boys," the kids nearby corrected her by saying I was "the girl who liked to play with boys' toys!" They were right. I never liked to play house and thought dolls were silly. I thought it was much more fun to run, go adventuring, and role play, like the boys!
There's another memory I have about cold winter mornings. I'd wake up to huge golden snowflake-like designs on the ceiling and walls, and it took me a few seconds to realize Daddy had lit the kerosene stove. The flickering flame coming through the stovetop and glass sides of the stove made those shifting shadows around the room.
My sisters and I were able to start the day dressing in a warm room because of what Daddy had done for us while it was still dark, while we were still sleeping.
I didn't stay a Tomboy forever, and God gave me someone who would be the "Daddy" in our home.
Kinya Saito. I saw him get many dust-size blood pricks in his fingertips after clearing up broken glass on the floor after the first large tremor of the 2011 earthquake--yes, we were in Fukushima when it came. I saw him go days not thinking of himself to work like crazy to pay back his parents' workplace debt.
One clear result of that was that our son, who was taking a turn for the worse in school studies, saw his father's posture at work and determined to do his best himself as well.
Years later, Kinya spent time at my side when I felt suicidal just to let me know I was not alone.
Maybe that kerosene stove is not considered a marvel of all human inventions, but I do know I absolutely loved the way it kept us warm those winter mornings. Maybe Kinya Saito is not considered a remarkable person by human standards, but I do know he has become an irreplaceable part of my heart. Thank You God, for protecting our home through him.
Happy Birthday, Kinya. February 2 is his Birthday.
