The most important thing Auntie Chigusa taught me was gaman. The ability to resist, endure, tolerate, and withstand. “Life is like the sea,” she lectured me, “Sometimes gentle, sometimes hard. You must be strong to overcome its unpredictable changes. Without gaman, you will not survive. Gaman is at the heart of our Japanese spirit. You must become an astute pupil to understand the meaning of gaman.”

I nodded my head with my eyes peeled. Surely, I’d need to master gaman if it meant that much to Auntie. Years later, however, I came to realize that I was no stranger to gaman. I was exercising gaman every day since Father left me behind in Japan. Gaman was how I’d gotten through the first hellish months in Kyushu. Gaman was everything I did when she scolded me. The winter in Kyushu offered me fertile ground to sow more seeds of gaman.