Remembering Dad
This past weekend, we held a memorial service for my dad, who passed away at the age of 97. Of all the stories told at the service and shared among people at the reception, the conversation always came back to family. Being one of eight children, he and his siblings always made sure that the whole family never lost touch with each other, and we, the next generation, work to maintain that.
I put the life history and remarks on a page for my dad, as well as the slideshow and program. Here are a few thoughts of the day.
While our family of six (me and Melody, Kellen and Noël, Tynor and Mallory) get together often, it was still special for us to all be together to celebrate my dad. We all went to dinner at his and my mom's favorite restaurant, Dal Rae, and I could feel echoes of them as we ate. For lunch before the service, we went to a nearby grocery store to get tamales for lunch. What I didn't tell the kids is my dad went through a phase of making tamales and would pull them out of the freezer for me to have when I was visiting.
There was a strong representation from my mom's family, which is a tribute to how he treated them as if they were his own family. My kids aren't nearly as familiar with that side, so it was good to have them get to know some of the Ishii side.
The caregivers who took care of my dad since last March were able to come. Paul and MJ always so caring, and treated him like a member of their family. I know how much I admired them and it was heartwarming to see so many of my family walking up to them and thanking them. Paul and MJ told me it was obvious to them how our family, while large, is still close, and impressed that people would keep visiting and sending cards.
Below are the sideshow and some pictures I want to call out, as well as some from this past weekend.
Music:
Sonata in c minor, Op. 13 (Pathétique), Adagio cantabile; Ludwig van Beethoven
Arabesque No. 1, Andantino con moto; Claude Debussy
Frank Fujimoto (2024)
My favorite picture of me with my dad. This was at Niagara Falls in 1973. We were on a day trip from Cleveland, where my cousin had gotten married on the exact day of my parents’ 15th wedding anniversary. My mom sarcastically called it their second honeymoon, since I and three of my dad’s siblings were also in the car.
When the Japanese Americans were relocated during World War II, my dad was in high school. Even though he did get a degree from UCLA, he never got his high school diploma. In 2004, Downey High (where he was going) had all the surviving students who were relocated walk through the full graduation, including cap and gown, as well as being handed their diplomas. My dad’s sister (second from the left) also walked through. He was genuinely touched, and kept looking at the diploma as we were eating dinner afterwards.
This was taken just after a large family reunion in 2016. My cousin wanted us to gather together for a photo, but we were all too tired to move. She took the photo anyway, and we agreed it looked like a promo shot for a TV show.
This photo has a special place in family lore. I took it at the 88th birthday party for my Aunt Aiko (left) and it’s a rare photo in later years where all three of them are laughing.
My favorite picture of my parents. It was before they were married, and I’ve been told it was taken at a bowling alley. They both loved coffee.
Family photos have always been a thing in our family. Whenever the brothers and sisters (my dad’s generation) were together, they would line up in birth order. The cousins (my generation) does the same, but there are many more of us, and we always need to try to remember the order. I never have that problem, since I’m the youngest.
My dad would always indulge when people wanted to take pictures with him, including these two grand-nieces. Usually he would not have much of a smile, so this would be considered him beaming.
After my mom passed away, we, along with some cousins, had dinner at my parents’ favorite restaurant, Dal Rae in Pico Rivera. The thing I like about this photo is my dad truly looks like the patriarch that he was.
We went back to Dal Rae the night before my dad’s service.
At the reception after the service.
The last portrait I have of my dad, taken by one of his caregivers. Her description was, “He’s in the mood today.”
