Blue Kimono

Most days of the year, the blue kimono lives in a green cardboard box. The corners of the box are fuzzy with age, and it smells like a fresh jigsaw puzzle. The blue kimono is only worn one night a year, but in that one night, it earns its right to occupy valuable real estate in a cramped closet. The first Saturday of every August, the blue kimono re-debuts itself at the Oakland Obon.

Grandma used to dance on the yagura as one of the head instructors for the Oakland Buddhist Church. In the uncertainty of randomly waving uchiwa, she offered confident consistency. In those summer August nights, she was the expert. I remember seeing her elevated on the wooden stage, warmly illuminated by the paper lanterns. She was still my grandma, but when she was on stage, I felt proud to be associated with someone commanding and yet elegant.

I always knew Obon was meant to honor and remember people who have passed away, but Obon took on a new meaning when my grandfather died. That first Obon without Grandpa was strange. It was as if every movement in the blue kimono was a private hello from my grandma to her husband.

And like the first Obon without Grandpa, this year was jarring as well: for the first time in my life, Grandma didn't dance.

With all the struggles of the past year, Grandma was too tired both physically and emotionally to navigate the pot holes and sloping memories of the Obon circles. And because the blue kimono had no wearer, it stayed tucked away at home while Grandma watched the Odori from a muddy-green folding chair.

Every year we take a family picture. I can remember putting one arm around my Grandma's shoulder for the picture. Her kimono always feels rough like a potato sack yet fluffy like a quilt. I'd run my fingers along her fragile uchiwa tucked securely in her obi. These are the textures and sights of summer. These are the things in which I have found refuge.

And while Obon may be the first Saturday of every August, today was not the same summer festival I have come to love and come to rely on.