Nothing sucks the funny out of life like a global crisis. My thoughts, prayers and love are with the Japanese people tonight.
On top of the tsunami, never-ending earthquakes, and potential for nuclear meltdown, I think my Japanese dog groomer and her husband may file a restraining order against me. What can I say? I've seen these people every week for a year. I've entrusted them with my most precious possession 52 times in a row. A girl can bond, can't she?
Rie, my Japanese-BFF-who-just-doesn't-know-it-yet, is really to blame. She is the epitome of Japanese culture and refinement. Not like the typical dog groomer who looks like they got locked in a tanning bed and sounds like they smoke two packs a day. I'm pretty sure Rie has never been out in the sun and would only smoke if she were on fire. And she loves loves loves my dog. But nothing has bonded us more than our mothers. We are both mama's girls who live what feels like a million miles away from our mamas. I wonder how you say Mama in Japanese. I'll have to ask Rie. Or Willoughby. He's learning the language.
So when the news broke on Thursday night, the first person I thought of was Rie. Well, actually...it was my cousin and her husband from East Texas who were welcoming their first baby in a Tokyo hospital (A baby girl who was born perfect with perfect timing...30 minutes before the earthquake hit). But then it was Rie. When I spoke to her at exactly 8:31 the next morning, she had just spoken to her mother in Tokyo and everyone was fine.
So I was surprised when Rie broke down in embarrassed tears on Saturday. Big embarrassed crocodile tears. She confided in me that her mother was having some physical issues and they might have to sell the business and return to Japan. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Don't leave me!" was my first reaction. But I hid it well. I'm sure she had no idea. After she broke loose from my lemur grip and I regained my composure, I really was there for her.
Maybe this is a good time to explain that the two most polite groups of people in the world are the Japanese and Texan. It's true. And every visit to the groomer involves several "thank yous," at least one hug, and a few awkward bows. It's like watching an episode of Chip'N'Dale. "After you..." "No, I insist, after you..."
And being polite means, above all, not burdening others with your problems. So Rie must have been horrified when I forced her by emotional gunpoint into the parking lot to tell me everything. I told her 417 times in the span of 4 minutes that she had to promise to call me if she needed anything. Then I called her back to reiterate "anything." Then I texted her later that night to make sure she understood. Anything. I even outlined a list of possible BFF-in-crisis duties. If she and her husband went for a visit, I would happily watch the shop, her house...anything. And if she decided to move back, I would come over and help her pack up every last box. I'm sure she was thinking, in the politest possible way, "I'm not letting you come anywhere near my house, crazy lady."
Just so you know, Southern Hospitality does not equal crazy. The lemur grip? Ok, maybe that's a little crazy. But I would like to say to my beloved Rie and June and everyone in Japan tonight..."You are loved by me."
If you are wondering how you can help Japan, my favorite emergency response organization is called Shelterbox. You can find out more information at www.shelterboxusa.org.