An Excerpt from THE POND BEYOND THE FOREST: Reflections on Childhood Trauma & Motherhood
By Shigeko Ito
Fans of Stephanie Foo’s What My Bones Know will connect with this memoir of a middle-aged Japanese immigrant mother’s struggle to raise her teenage son and save her marriage when she finds herself triggered by memories of her own childhood trauma form emotional neglect.
My Sixteenth Birthday
On the day I turned sixteen, I left my family in Japan to spend an entire month in America to participate in a homestay program. As my surgeon father was performing an appendectomy, and my mother, the socialite Imelda Marcos of Sagamihara, was out shopping for her twentieth pair of Ferragamo shoes, I was pawned off to my father’s hospital employee who drove me the three hours to Narita Airport.
At the San Francisco Airport gate, my host mother, Mrs. Schmidt, immediately recognized me from the photo I’d sent her. Joanne was an attractive middle-aged woman with a radiant smile, short brown curly hair, slightly wrinkled tanned skin, and intense brown eyes. She introduced herself and her son, Ricky.
“So glad you’re finally here,” Joanne said. I shook her hand and told her to call me Chako.
As we stepped outside the terminal, I felt giddy with anticipation. “Today is my birthday.” I grinned. “I’m sixteen.”
“Happy birthday!” they said, smiling. My family never celebrated birthdays, so their exuberant good wishes were a heartening surprise.
They stopped next to a beat-up Chevy pickup riddled with dents and rust spots. It looked like it might have been white once. Oh my God, what kind of car is this? In her letter, Joanne had mentioned that everyone in the family was either a graduate of, or was currently attending, Stanford, which my tutor told me was an elite school. I hadn’t gotten the impression they were poor. I hope I won’t end up sleeping on a couch in the living room all month. But I hid my uneasiness behind a twitchy smile.
As Ricky slid behind the wheel, Joanne nudged me onto the bench seat from the passenger side, and she followed after me. I felt a bit awkward sandwiched between them, but I liked their immediate closeness and held my breath, not wanting to ruin this intimate moment.
After an hour’s drive, we arrived in Napa Valley, California. Row after row of lush green vines sprawled over the sunlit hillsides. Ricky steered the car into a driveway lined with evergreen hedges, leading up to a charming one-story lavender-blue house with white trim and a gray roof.
Joanne suggested I rest a bit after the long day, so I decided to lie down.
I awoke to a gentle knock on the door. I jumped out of bed feeling disoriented. It was 5:30.
“Richard’s back,” Joanne said, “and he’d like to meet you. And dinner’s almost ready.”
I flashed back to evenings at home when the housekeeper, Hayashi-san, would call me to dinner before leaving at 5:30. The same dishes would reappear every five days or so. I’d sit down in front of the TV with her signature potato croquette and shovel the food into my mouth. While eating I often watched her hurrying to leave. As soon as the apprehension of being alone kicked in, I could no longer savor the food.
My host father, Richard Schmidt, was a busy stockbroker. He stood next to the kitchen table, reading the newspaper through black-rimmed glasses. He seemed to be in his late forties and had the aura of a self-assured executive.
He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “You must be Chako!” he said in a deep baritone.
I approached him with a casual, “Nice to meet you.” He gave me a firm, strong handshake—a little overpowering at first.
“Dinner’s ready,” Joanne said. “We’re eating in the backyard tonight.”
I helped by carrying the bowl of salad made with freshly picked garden vegetables. Joanne brought out a platter of grilled steaks, and we all sat down to eat.
“So, you turned sixteen today, huh?” Richard asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Happy birthday, sweet sixteen!” he said.
I didn’t know what that meant, but I smiled.
During dinner, Richard’s dignified low voice and manner reminded me of Jack Nicholson. I also learned that Joanne was a masterful violinist.
I told them about my fascination with American slang. The first slang I’d learned was from an American girl living on a nearby military base.
“What is it?” Richard asked.
“Jive turkey.”
He, Ricky, and Joanne burst out laughing.
After the delicious dinner, Joanne and Ricky cleared the table. When Joanne returned from the kitchen, she was carrying a birthday cake.
I was speechless. It was a homemade angel food cake decorated with whipped cream and topped with sliced strawberries and raspberries. Ricky lit the sixteen candles, and they sang “Happy Birthday.” I was so touched my eyes welled up.
“Okay, Chako,” Richard said, “blow out those candles and make a wish.”
At first, I didn’t know what to wish for, but as I blew out the candles, I closed my eyes. I wish for happiness.
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SHIGEKO ITO is an educator, mental health advocate, and author of THE POND BEYOND THE FOREST: Reflections on Childhood Trauma & Motherhood. She grew up in Japan and immigrated to America in her twenties to pursue higher education, earning a PhD in Education from Stanford University. Drawing on cross-cultural experiences and academic expertise, she explores themes of trauma, resilience, and healing, with a particular focus on childhood emotional neglect. For many years, she worked at a Montessori preschool in Seattle, Washington, where she lives with her husband of thirty years. Her articles have appeared on the CPTSD Foundation’s blog and on the ADAA (Anxiety and Depression Association of America) website. Find her online at the following:
· Website: shigekoito.com
· Facebook: facebook.com/shigekoitomemoir
· Instagram: instagram.com/shigekochakoito
· LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/shigekoito-memoir
· Twitter/X: x.com/ShigekoChakoIto
· Bluesky: bsky.app/profile/shigekoito.bsky.social
