In early summer of 1970, when I was around 3.5 years old Dad got his next orders, and it was time for my first move to Europe. Since we were coming from Japan, it made sense to get there by way of the US and visit family on the way.
As luck would have it, just in time for the trip I came down with the chicken pox, and only wanted to sit in mom’s lap, but she didn’t have a lap, being so pregnant with my sister that there was no room for me. So the trip to Michigan was kinda miserable, but then I gave the chicken pox to my cousins and got better, and had fun playing with them. Then we went on to Pennsylvania and visited more cousins, but, unlike the ones on mom’s side of the family, which are all the same age as I am, the Pennsylvania cousins (dad’s side of the family) were all much older than I was (and there were even more of them), so I recall being kinda overwhelmed by it all.
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