What’s in a Date?

Here I am talking about dates again!

March 7.

Today is the birthday of my dear niece, Michaela. It’s always sad or bittersweet knowing that my mom is not here for such special days…or, at least not physically. She loved Michaela so. She loved all of her grandchildren and children. What would she be like right now if she had not passed away from pancreatic cancer at the age of 63? (That was so brutal and heartbreaking…)

On March 11, Michaela will be presenting (informally) at her Master’s Symposium. Wow! So proud of her! My mom—her grandma—would be so proud of her! Michaela is a teacher who is well-loved by her students; she has that magnetic gift of working with children just as her grandma did. It does seem to run in the family; my sister Suzy is also a fabulous teacher, adored by her students (and their parents) over the decades. March 11 will be a glorious day to celebrate Michaela’s accomplishments and her birthday.

March 11 this year will also be a bittersweet day for the Castle family; it is the day that our beloved Gerry Castle was born in 1942. This will be the first birthday without her. We are still figuring out how to continue doing life without her grounding presence, love, advice, wisdom, encouragement, and laughter in our lives. She, like my mom, is sorely missed. The wound is still a bit fresh…

Back to today’s date, March 7. Michaela’s birthday is also the date of birth for someone unseen and unmentioned in our family: my grandma’s husband, Peary. Growing up, he was a source of shame for Grandma, so his presence and importance was minimized. For a while my sisters and I lived with my grandparents. Grandpa worked at night as a security guard at the Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory, so slept during the day. We didn’t converse too much. His time while awake was spent in the neighborhood, chatting with folks and drinking his bottle of vodka. We are thankful that he was nice when drunk. I do wish I could go back in time and have conversations with him. I wonder what drove him to drink; what were his inner “demons” and pain points that he did not share with the world? What was it like to serve in various wars? He was a nice and good man. But, we hardly really knew him. He supposedly was married once, or maybe even twice, before marrying my grandma in Korea. He was her ticket to a certain “Cinderella” story of leaving behind the sadness of life in a beloved war-torn country, to a land of opportunity. My biological grandfather died around the time of the Korean War, and my grandma was left to raise her daughter—my mom—on her own. There were a lot of challenges. My grandma proved extreme strength, resilience, determination, and endurance during this time in her life. So many longed to be able to leave for a better place, a better life. So, my grandma was one of the “lucky” ones. She was the matriarch of the family, the first to come to the US in the early 1960s. She paved the way for other relatives and future generations to experience a “better life” in America. If not for her, many would not have left Korea.

Grandpa Peary was black; this was another source of shame, along with the alcoholism, for my grandmother. Especially back in the ‘60s, there were not many Koreans married to African Americans, for they deemed that as shameful. Ah, how pervasive racism once was. (I truly wish I could say “once was” but it does still exist in our world today, unfortunately.) As I said above, Peary’s presence and importance was minimized… So, I think it is interesting that our dear Michaela should be born on Grandpa Peary’s birthday! It is a reminder for him to NOT be forgotten! I am thankful for this reminder. Everyone should be valued as a human, as a beloved child of our Creator, God. He was loved by God; God’s son died for him. We are not to discount others. We are not to minimize his presence and importance; may March 7 always be a reminder to my family of the man who was implemental in making possible the many Korean relatives who now call the USA their home. If not for him, so many of us would not be here, including me and my sisters. Thank God for a black alcoholic Army sargent who helped to make our lives possible. Happy Birthday, Grandpa!

(Photo credit: defense.gov)