Tama Murotani-Inaba, at 88th party with daughters Cari (left) and Joi (right).

LIKE MANY THINGS, eighty-eighth birthday parties come from China. There is believed to be something lucky about the double eights-thus the Beijing Olympics are slated to begin on 8/8/2008. Three eights must be even better! Applied to birthdays, reaching 88 has significance because not everyone gets there. Especially if one reaches that age in good enough physical and financial health to have a party, then one has pretty much truly made it. It is not just luck. Individuals that live that long and well have each done something remarkably right.

This year I have been privileged to attend two 88th birthday parties. The first, in the spring, was for Helen Akita, which I attended as Dad's driver. Mrs. Akita golfed with Dad and Mom for years. While I only then met Mrs. Akita, I was impressed at the summary of her well-lived life, which has centered on family, and during her working days, on a greenhouse, where she taught many a part-time college student to "work hard in the dirt." An image of a young Mrs. Akita lives on in our house to this day, in the form of a refrigerator magnet that came with the party invite.

The second 88th party I attended, on May 31, was that of effervescent Tama Murotani-Inaba. I found deeper meaning in this gathering, for Tama i s someone I have gotten to know in my own life. Moreover, hers was a smaller, more intimate gathering of just over 100 people. Best, instead of hearing about Tama from many others, the event centered on Tama speaking directly to us, heart to heart.

With late-husband Harry Murotani, North Carolina, 1942.

Tama said, more or less, "I decided I am not going to have a funeral. What is the point of all of you getting together to remember me, if I can't be there to share it with you? Instead, I wanted to spend the money I saved for a funeral now on this party...

"To see, to touch, to know, before it is time to go."

"Thank you, I love you, and farewell. I am so honored and humbled by your presence today. I want to thank all of you."

Over the party, Tama also made sure that she hugged everyone present.

Tama's words and actions touched all with their openness and candor. More broadly, what one comes away with these days-in hearing personal statements like Tama's, on seeing the stunningly remodeled Nisei Veterans Hall, in reading the stirring text of the UW speech of Chiyo Horiuchi (below)-are impressions of lives well-lived, and of a stellar generation saying "Thank you, carry on, and farewell" with style and grace.

With late-husband Harry Murotani, Seattle, 1947

As Tama is still very much with us, I will close here with three pictures from her life among many on display at her gathering. More than anything I can possibly write, the images provide insight into where the Tama of today comes from. They impart a sense of how a plucky kid pulled herself up from the day her father, Tadashi Koriyama, passed away when she was fifteen, choosing her-the youngest of four children- as the one to run the family store with her mother (Ted's Grocery, then on Sixth Avenue between James and Cherry). My guess is that Mr. Koriyama must have seen something in the young Tama, some spark, some tenacity in the "yancha bozu" [wild] child that made him feel she could bear the weight of family responsibility, just as he left Tama's siblings free to pursue youthful activities that she would never have a chance to participate in.

With Cari, 18

In sharing these images from Tama's life, my hope is that they will foster for her soulful conversations with others, just as these columns have opened discussions for me with many who might never otherwise have talked to me.

At Tama's party, a young neighbor, Christian Austin, read us a story that ended, "Attitude is everything. Be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle. Live simply, love generously, care deeply, speak kindly, leave the rest to God. Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain!"

Please join me in congratulating Tama, and in thanking her for showing so many of us how to dance-exuberantly-in the rain.

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