Tribute to a beautiful woman--Yoshiko Nakamine McWhorter

Nearly forty-six years ago, a beautiful, little Okinawan woman stepped off an airplane to begin her life in America. She was wearing a lovely sheath dress, white gloves on her tiny hands, and heels which made her petite stature appear as big as she was inside. She was the picture of grace inspite of the 24-hours of travel she endured alone to arrive. Yoshiko Nakamine had just married Jack McWhorter, a young American marine; she left behind her family and all she knew and held dear to begin a new life in a new country with her new husband.

Upon arriving, she was embraced by Jack's Scotch-Irish clan--a very close-knit family. Jack's mother, Mildred, took her in as one of her own, never distinguishing between Yoko and her own daughters--she was, after all, a McWhorter now and a McWhorter she would remain. Mildred taught Yoko so much--she took her to church where she learned of the love of Jesus, she taught her how to bake, she became her closest friend. Jack's sisters and brothers treated her with such care and love that she was never considered anything but family.

Jack's work often kept him away for a few days at a time. Yet, Yoko was never alone. Jack's brothers would help out anytime she needed them. And Jack never knew what he would come home to--one time it was new landscaping, another time a new pet, and even one time it was a whole new house. If Yoko ever had a need, the family was there to help her.

She was also blessed in that she found a community of Japanese/Okinawan women here in Granite City. These were other women who had married and come here to live as well. These women provided a place where Yoko could just be "Japanese"--where she could speak her language and eat her favorite foods with women from her culture. If ever she met a young Japanese woman, she invited her to join the group---she remembered what it was like to leave her homeland and family behind.

It was easy to love Yoko. I have to wonder if anyone ever met her who didn't just love her. She always looked at the positive side of everything. She believed with all her heart that God would take care of those He loved. She always had an anecdote for any situation. She always looked for "a sign" that showed God was a part of whatever was happening. She was gentler than any other person I've ever known.

I remember the day Mark and I left for our honeymoon; Mark asked her what she wanted us to bring back for her. Without hesitation, and with a straight face, she replied, "A baby." She did that often...giving a reply you weren't expecting, but saying it so matter-of-factly you had to think twice to make sure you heard what she said. She'd make you laugh with her quick replies. And other times, she'd give you a look and just nod her head...and you knew what she was thinking.

Yoko definitely loved children! All children. I never saw her prouder than the days she would sit and hold her new grandbabies. Elisabeth was her first grandchild and the evening Elisabeth was born, Yoko stood outside the nursery silently gazing in awe at our tiny new baby. Her grandchildren---all 6 of them---loved her too!!! A trip to Grandma Yoko's house meant fried rice, Snicker bars, Grandma Yoko buns with honey, and (quite frankly) anything else they wanted. She didn't believe in telling them no and she hated seeing any of them upset.

Yoko was my mother-in-law. We had a few differences, and sometimes it was difficult to communicate because of the language difference, but I respected her completely and with my whole heart. She loved me with the same love she had been shown by her mother-in-law; she never differentiated between me or Emily, her own daughter. She always encouraged me and supported me in everything. She offered advice on parenting my children, but she never pushed her advice onto me.

Yes, Yoko taught me much about love. One time, when I was pretty frustrated with Mark, I asked her, "Yoko, how do you put up with these McWhorter men?" We were in her kitchen washing dishes; and without hesitating, she simply said, "It's love, Shannon. You just have to love." I've pondered her response over the years. I knew what she meant then and I know it still today. She was telling me that love is a commitment. (If you are committed to someone, you can "put up with" them.) She was committed to Jack; whatever Jack wanted was fine with her. Oh, there were times when she would have chosen something different, but she knew it was what Jack wanted. The beauty in this is that Jack was just as committed to her as she was to him. They didn't grow apart as they grew older, in fact just the opposite was true. Over the years, I watched their love and commitment to each other deepen as they grew older.

On Thursday, March 19, 2009, Yoko left on another journey. As she did 46 years ago, again she left her home, her family, and everything she held dear. Again she left to go to a new home in a new country; but this time she left to go to her eternal home in Heaven. Her last few months on this earth were full of struggles, but in the end she died peacefully. She is gracing Heaven now with her gentle spirit and anecdotes. And I have to wonder if she is making Jesus laugh with her wit and quick replies.

You did your best, Yoko. Your legacy of love, joy and gentleness will live on as we continue to do ours.