Atsuko Waguri: Up Against 85 Years

She was so skinny and tiny. She had beautiful white hair and hazel eyes. Knitting and gardening were her special hobbies. Despite her age, which was 85, she was willing to try new things. Her smile always made people happy. Now that she is gone, those who knew her cannot help but realize the fact that there are holes in their hearts. Her name was Atsuko Waguri. She was born to one of the richest fishermen's bosses in Hakodate, Hokkaido in 1906, as the sixth of seven children. Being taken care of by a number of maids and servants, she was very proud and selfish.

She was a rare girl in those days, in the Meiji Era, playing something called "tennis" with hakama and geta, listening to "strange"--as most Meiji people would call it--Hawaiian music holding a brand new shamisen-like ukulele in her arms. "There was a big gramophone in my house," she would recall, "which looked like a huge morning glory. I could even go to Mitsukoshi department store and pick whatever I wanted. Whatever. Then they sent what I liked to my house." Her father's wealth made everything possible for her. Although everything she did was something exclusive in those days, she never realized it until she got poor. She once said, "I remember throwing a fit wanting to wear mompe, which most of the girls at school wore, instead of the neat hakama I was forced to wear every day. Isn't this funny?"

Although she had no problem getting the things she wanted, she had a heavy complex about her birthmark that made a circle around her eyes. Of course her parents made every effort for that. Her mother once took her to a famous doctor in Tokyo to see if she could get plastic surgery. "You know, I would curse myself for the mark," she said. "My sister was called Yayoi-Komachi for her beauty, and I was ugly ... but I decided not to think about it. This is me and it's no use whining about something like that." She made it all the way to jogak-ko, which was also rare when the compulsory education covered only elementary school. "I didn't want my friends to know that I was studying. So I would prepare for the exam ahead of them and go to katsudou-shashin (movies) the day before the exam," she recalled.

When she graduated, she became an elementary school teacher. After spending several years as a teacher in Hakodate, she got married to Ushiro Waguri, who was the head engineer of Hikawa-maru. Contrary to her strong character, he was a very calm and peaceful man. It was an arranged marriage as is often the case with the people in those days. However, they loved each other. They had a nice house with some chickens that would lay eggs every morning. He was mostly on board the ship throughout the year, and he would come back with a lot of rare things from foreign countries, such as fruits and cute little souvenirs. While he was gone, she would anxiously wait for him, taking care of the children that were born year after year. She once had a miscarriage of twins during his absence.

"I managed everything somehow," she once said as if it were nothing. "I couldn't let it get me down because I had three living children." Half unconsciously, she was gradually turning to be tough and independent, which was also rare for a woman in her days in this country.

World War II broke out. Now they had to evacuate to Niigata. But the worst thing that happened was her husband's death at the age of 42, caused not by the war, but by an intestinal obstruction. And their fourth baby, Kenjiro, was born just ten months before that. The baby couldn't even recognize his own father. "I had no time to grieve," she said again. "I had four children to feed. Nobody but I was the one who had to get in control of things."

In the postwar period, not having experienced real survival, as she had always been well-off, she was often taken in, and she came to lose most of her possessions. She would go peddling around with a heavy sack on her back with little Kenjiro. "He wouldn't say anything," she said, "but he scratched my hand weakly when he wanted something. So I tried very hard to manage money that is not worth a penny today." She was living on the edge with four children in a six-mat room that a pastor kindly offered them to stay in.

"I once tried to commit suicide with your father on my back," she said. "We were at a bridge one night. I was gazing at the roaring river and thinking that if I threw myself in it, then there would be no more suffering. But at that moment I heard Kenjiro on my back, who was so small, saying 'Ka-chan, I want to go home.' I just came to my senses and hurried home." With her and her children's unusual effort, their living got better little by little. Her most beloved son, Kenjiro, made it to university, and became an elementary school teacher also. "I was very glad to see my son finally become ichinin-mae (independent)," she would recall.

After Kenjiro and his wife had their first baby, she moved to their house to take care of the baby. When she was asked to give the baby a name, she came up with the name Momo-e (a hundred branches 百枝), wishing the baby girl would be like a big tree spreading its hundred branches all over. But the parents wanted it to be Momo-e (a hundred blessings 百恵, wishing that the baby would be given a hundred blessings). Atsuko, however, didn't like that. So she added something more to the name Momo-e (a hundred blessings 百恵), for as she says, "Momo, to be given is fine, but what's more important is that you share and give away these blessings to other people. That is my wish for your name." 

Since Kenjiro and his wife both worked, Atsuko took care of the house and brought up the children. The garden was always well taken care of by her, and in the seasons, it was full of flowers and fragrance. She would willingly go into new things such as go to basketwork lessons or pizza cooking lessons, which she practiced for her family. She would even listen to hard rock or heavy metal music, which her grandchildren loved. With her, the family was complete.

"You are my treasure, Momo. Once I hated God for my birthmark and sometimes reproached Him for the hardships I experienced, but look at you. You are the very gift that He has given," she would often tell her granddaughter whom she especially loved. And every time Momoe was having a hard time, she would say, "Think positive, Momo. Try to make something negative into something positive. Then things will naturally work out." That very phrase sums up Atsuko's life. Up in lights and falling off the silver screen, the once arrogant, proud girl gradually changed into someone who was truly strong and warmhearted.

On April 30, 1992, she flew to the angels. "I remember her rough, knotty hands," Momoe says. "Although she is not in this world anymore, her special love and wisdom will stay forever in my heart. I miss her but I can't make her death something negative. She wouldn't like that, you know."

by Momoe Waguri