It has been said that “time heals all wounds.” I do not agree. After time, there will always be a scar as a reminder of what happened. For me, my scar is my dad's urn of ashes. It was late August...

My grandma stands at four feet eleven inches and sports a short, close-cropped salt and pepper haircut. Her skin is darker than most other Japanese Americans, a reminder of her upbringing on a small farm...