To my Ojiichan.

December 7, 1941. My grandpa from Japan lived through this day. A few weeks ago, on December 7, my good friend Jon told me that he was going to watch the movie Pearl Harbor. He was going to watch it because obviously Pearl Harbor happened on December 7. Well, it has never hit me this hard before. I always knew that my Japanese grandpa was suppose to fly a plane on that day but I never realized that I wouldn't be on this earth if it weren't for him getting sick. He got sick that day so he wasn't able to fly a plane to Pearl Harbor. He was 16 years old, almost 17. Can you believe that? He was so young. And to think that he was about to give his life up for his country gives me chills. I love my ojiichan so very much. There has been a language barrier because I can't speak Japanese, but for some reason, every time I go to visit, I can feel his love for me. He tries to tell me things through actions while speaking Japanese so that I'll understand. He is constantly making food for my family and I. He gives generous gifts every time I visit. He's just the best. There's no other way to say it. I love my ojiichan. He's 86 and still going strong! He cooks meals daily, lifts my 100 lb suitcase out of the cute little white van that he has driven for years, works in the garden, and does the most important job with so much patience and love--he takes care of my grandma. My cute obaachan suffers from alsheimers so he is constantly at her side. Always giving her so much love even though sometimes she doesn't even remember who he is. My ojiichan is an inspiration to me. I love him.