Henry always wanted to go to Japan. That was where his Dad was born, but both his Dad and Roman were so busy with work that they never seemed to have the time.
“We’ll take you to see Grandma Takakura,” they would say. “But it’s an expensive trip. And we need to save up.”
Henry had only met Grandma Takakura once when she came to the United States to stay with them. She brought funny cookies and candies in boxes decorated with little panda bears and kitties, and Henry’s favorite was a little white box with rainbow polka dots that said, “Matcha Choco Tea,” and his Dad was so proud that Henry liked Japanese candies.
“These were my favorites when I was little, too,” Dad had said.
So Henry saved his box of Grandma’s candies in a little space in his sock drawer. He promised himself he would only eat one candy once a month, so he could make them last for forever and make the memory of Grandma Takakura last forever, too.
When Grandma Takakura left, Dad and Roman hugged her at the airport, but Dad was sad. Grandma Takakura’s hands were shaking. She had a hard time carrying her suitcases. One of the airport people had to push her in a wheelchair. She seemed so small and frail to Henry that it was very hard for him to imagine that she used to take care of Dad when he was small. It was hard to imagine that Dad had once been small.
“Do you know how sometimes you miss us when we have to go away for work?” Roman said.
Henry thought about it. When his Dads were gone for work, he stayed with Uncle Lester who was fun and played all of Henry’s favorite marble games with him. But no matter how fun Uncle Lester was, he didn’t have Roman’s big laugh that bounced off the walls and filled him with joy so that his cheeks blushed bright red. And Uncle Lester didn’t have Dad’s magic arms that could fix any cut or scrape or bruise or sad day with one of his tight hugs.
“Does Dad miss Grandma Takakura like I miss you?” Henry said.
“Exactly like that,” Roman said. “Grandma Takakura has lived a long, full life, and she knows your Dad better than almost anyone.”
“Well, I want Grandma Takakura to know me just like she knows Dad,” Henry said.
But still, every time Henry asked when they were going to see Grandma Takakura in Japan, his Dads said he would have to be patient.
“We’re trying very hard to make it happen,” Dad said. “Trust me.”
Henry wanted to ask how they were trying very hard, but instead he went to his room to play with his toys, and he kept eating only one Matcha Choco Tea candy on the first day of every month. And then he would hide the rainbow polka-dot box and its gold ribbon underneath his socks, so he wouldn’t be tempted to eat more.
But one day, on the first of the month, Henry reached in his box, and there was only a single candy wrapped in green and gold foil left.
Henry wanted to cry and tell his Dad, so he could wrap his arms around him and make him feel better, but if he told him, it might make him feel bad about missing his mom.
Henry went down to breakfast with a heavy heart, knowing the last candy was in his pocket. “What if I forget about Grandma Takakura?” he thought. “What if I don’t remember what she looks like or what she smells like?”
Henry ate his eggs and toast, but his dads could see that Henry wasn’t feeling well.
“Are you sick, sweetie?” Roman asked.
Henry shook his head and bit a piece of buttered toast with his favorite strawberry jam, but the sweet jam just made him think about the candy and how he would soon have no more left.
“I think something is weighing heavy on Henry’s heart,” Dad said. “Can I make it feel better?”
Henry reached in his pocket and touched the candy whose foil crinkled in his fingers. Then he shook his head again.
“If you tell us what’s bothering you, maybe we can help,” Roman said.
Henry’s eyes welled up with tears, and before he knew it, he was crying into his eggs, which were too runny anyway, so it didn’t even matter. Suddenly his fingers tightened up into tight little fists and he couldn’t explain it, but he was feeling mad now, too. Sad and mad.
“We’re never ever going to Japan, and you say you care, but you don’t!” he yelled.
Roman and Dad looked at each other then looked back at Henry. Dad didn’t say any words. He just scooped up Henry into one big tight hug, and that made Henry cry harder.
But soon he didn’t feel angry anymore. His fists relaxed, and he hugged Dad back so hard that Dad said, “You’re pretty strong, kiddo.”
When Dad let go and sat back at the table, Henry felt embarrassed, but Dad took his hand and said, “I feel that way sometimes, too. Really mad. And helpless.”
“You do?” he asked.
“Of course, Henry. Humans are a big mess of many emotions. Sometimes I feel three, four, or even five emotions at once.”
Henry looked into Dad’s brown eyes that looked just like Henry’s and just like Grandma Takakura’s.
“We care very much about seeing Grandma Takakura,” Dad said. “In fact, we almost have the money saved up for our trip. But these things take time, and we should have let you know that. I’m so sorry we didn’t ask you about your feelings. Sometimes we’re so busy working and saving up for the future that we just forget about today.”
“I hope you forgive us,” Roman said.
“I have something to confess,” Henry said. He pulled the candy from his pocket and held it on his palm for his Dads to see.
“Oh! It’s Matcha Choco Tea!” Dad said, his face lighting up with a smile.
“Isn’t that your favorite?” Roman said.
Henry nodded that it was.
“Then you should eat it and smile,” Roman said. “We don’t like to see you sad.”
“But sometimes I am sad,” Henry said, tears coming back to his eyes. “And this is Dad’s favorite, too. Grandma Takakura gave me it, and now I only have one left, and I want to save it so I can remember how she looks and how she smells and how she hugs me!”
Then Dad’s eyes welled up with tears, too. But as he watched Henry and looked back and forth from him to the tiny candy, a wide smile spread across his face.
“Henry,” Dad said. “Sometimes I worry that I will forget how she looks and how she smells and how her hugs always made everything better. But I don’t want to make other people sad, so I don’t talk about it. Do you know what I mean?”
Henry nodded he did. In his bedroom, he’d thought exactly that. He didn’t want to make his Dad sad by talking about Grandma, and now he had.
“But it’s okay to feel how you feel,” Dad said. “I promise. Do you know what I do that helps sometimes?”
“What?” Henry said.
“If you close your eyes and concentrate real hard,” he said. “You can see her. Do you want to try it?”
Henry closed his eyes and saw the black and swirling colors around his eyelids. He thought of Grandma Takakura and imagined her skin and the lotion she rubbed into her hands at night and rubbed into Henry’s hands, too. Then he imagined Grandma’s soft hair that was short and straight and smooth like Henry’s, and he thought of his Grandma’s secret smiles when Dad did something silly and the way she made Henry’s eggs just right and put them over sweet sticky rice that Henry had never had before and loved.
And just when Henry could imagine her face perfectly and imagine the way she smelled and hugged, he actually felt Grandma’s hand holding his.
He quickly opened his eyes, but instead of Grandma Takakura, he saw Dad holding his hand.
“Did you see her?” he asked.
“I did,” he said.
“Whenever I miss her, I look at you, Henry, and I know she’s right there with us,” Dad said. “We’re going to Japan. I promise you. I’ll update you every week, or even every day, so you know you can trust me. And we’ll put it on the calendar together.”
Dad picked up the last Matcha Choco Tea candy from the table and unwrapped it from its foil. He laid it on the table and picked up a butter knife, cracking it down on the hard candy, splitting it into three pieces.
He handed one piece to Henry, one to Roman, and kept the last for himself and said, “On the count of three…”
And on three, they all put their candy into their mouths, and Dad said, “Isn’t it so good?!” Henry nodded and clapped because it did taste so good. It tasted better than any candy had ever tasted before.
“It tastes so good that we’ll always remember it,” Dad said, smiling. “And we’ll always remember how nice it was that we sat here together, remembering how much we love Grandma Takakura.”
When Henry swallowed the last bit of candy, he didn’t feel sad anymore.
The illustration is by Tiffany England, a fantasy illustrator specializing in whimsical watercolors. Currently she works out of the American Southwest illustrating stories inspired by nature, folklore and mythology. Her work has been shown in numerous published books as well as at galleries from coast to coast. Most of her free time is spent drawing monsters, chasing after bugs and romping through moss.