As I write this, you’re just a few months old, peacefully sleeping in your crib. You don’t know this yet, but you were named after my role model.
Kiyoshi came into my mother’s life when she was a baby, marrying my grandmother and adopting my mother as his own when he was only twenty. My mother wouldn’t even have known of this fact if it wasn’t for the day she had to go get her birth certificate to start her first job after college, and she noticed that she was listed as Kiyoshi’s adopted daughter. Up until that day, she never once imagined that Kiyoshi wasn’t her father. I didn’t know about this either growing up, until one day my mother told me with tears in her eyes, well after Kiyoshi had passed away. I always thought that Kiyoshi was my grandfather because of the way he treated me.
Kiyoshi was a simple man – a carpenter who built his life with his own two hands. He didn’t have a fancy education, he didn’t own nice things, and he never traveled the world. But the legacy he left behind is richer than any I could imagine.
He poured his whole heart into every endeavor, a testament to his care for others. His hands, skilled and ever-ready, were always there for family, friends, and neighbors, building the fabric of his community. There was one curious contradiction in this deeply private man: he refused to go to church on Sundays when crowds gathered, yet he insisted my mother never miss a service. He did not get along much with the self-proclaimed Christians whose pleasure-seeking lives were nothing like that of Jesus, but he was consistently there on the weekdays, with tools in hand, volunteering to mend and maintain God’s house, a quiet act of devotion that spoke volumes.
Kiyoshi really valued bonding with kids. When he passed away, the majority of those who attended his funeral were children from the neighborhood whose parents brought them to the funeral, saying that he had made a difference in their lives. He had touched them in ways words can’t capture. That, Kiyoshi, is the measure of the man he was. And to everyone’s astonishment, my grandmother never had to work a day of her life after Kiyoshi had passed. Kiyoshi had quietly amassed enough wealth to provide for his family for decades beyond his lifetime.
I named you after him, not because I want you to follow his exact path, but because I hope you carry his spirit in your heart. I don’t care if you obtain wealth, and I certainly don’t care if you obtain fame. Life is about the impact you leave on those closest to you.
Be kind, Kiyoshi. Be there for your friends and family. Be a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, a light in the world that can sometimes feel cold. Love and be loved. Look out for others when it’s not easy, especially for those who cannot do anything for you in return. Use your God-given talents to improve the lives of others.
I know that you’ll find your own way, discover your own passions, and make your own mark on the world. But never forget the power of connections you form with others, because that is the true mark of a person. That’s the legacy of the name you carry.
With all my love,
Your Father
