moodymama's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Remembering Pearl Harbor. Growing up in Hawaii, December 7th was always a highlighted day. Veterans flocked from all over the world in rememberance. Lei sales skyrocketed. Arizona Memorial was never more popular than in December. Japanese people were never more teased and and joked about. The pass through which the Japanese flew their death planes is never more traveled. I remember my first visit to the Arizona Memorial. Not being alive during that time period of WWII kind of made me eerily detached about the whole Pearl Harbor business. Like you knew how awful that whole event was, but you didn't have the choked up feeling when discussing it like we get when we remember what we were doing on September 11th. Anyway, about the visit. While waiting for the boat that ferries visitors to the actual memorial, we watched a film about the events leading up to the attack. The film also showed Japanese military servicemen making crude comments about Americans and shows just absolute devastation and tragedy. The room was filled with both Japanese and American tourists alike. Some were adorned with medals, and they cried during the entire presentation of that film as if the memories are still that fresh. The ride to the ferry was quiet with people holding onto their plumeria leis that they planned to later toss into the water. The Japenese looked decidedly apologetic and uncomfortable. Once at the memorial, I looked down at the oil that still coats the surface of the water, feeling uneasy about the bodies long-trapped beneath. I walked back into the area where there was a wall filled with all the names of the people who had lost their lives during the Pearl Harbor attack. I couldn't help but to be moved by the names of siblings, pointed out by the guide who says that a mother had lost three of her sons during that surprise attack on that quiet morning in December. There were a number of sibling name-pairings on that wall. My visitors and I paid our respects, watched our leis float away on the oily water, and walked back to the boat. It is then that I saw the Japanese men and the white-haired American men hugging or shaking hands and I was touched beyond words. Touched by something that I could not completely understand. It's always a remarkable feeling to be in the presence of absolute forgiveness. They chattered on the way back to the dock, despite the obvious language barrier, and vowed that they would meet up again next year when they'd return to pay respects to their fallen comrades. 5:50 p.m. - Monday, Dec. 10, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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