All good things...

Final post on this blog?

I guess it might be.

What more to write? There is no more Okaasan. Only me. Some kind people have tried to encourage me to write about living all over Japan in an RV with Dear Son etc I don't think I will, because that sounds like hard work and very unnecessary - many many foreigners write about traveling Japan. The Internet doesn't need another.

So, it's been a month since Okaasan died. Thanksyou for the messages about that - from people I haven't met in years, and others I've NEVER met! I was surprised by the responses.

We ARE fine. There isn't a lot of grief when a 95 year old dies. Just relief that her hard times are finally finished. Lots of memories, and for Dear Son a LOT of official paperwork. In Japan there is something called the Family Register - an official record of a family unit. which is registered (usually) at the local government office near where they live.

When the children of the family go off to marry, the men form new registers of their own. The daughters join a new register with their husband. When land changes hands, this document is necessary to show how it was inherited thru a family etc

Anyway, Dear Son is deep into all of that. Sorting out Okaasan's pension/bank/tax and the ownership of the family home near Tokyo. Sorting out photos.

I cleared out the very last of her clothes - some to the recycle shop, and some to the trash box. Clothes really are the personal things - they symbolise a person very clearly. Some of her T-shirts and scarves have become mine.

Okaasan is in our thoughts - foods she liked, photo memories...how she hassled me about my laundry hanging routines. Mainly positive memories - although it wasn't all happiness.

We all did our best with the necessary situation. She in agreeing to come and live with her son, and the foreign partner. Him in trying to give his mother the care she required. Me in trying to be supportive of them both.

Every time there's a story in Japan about a family murder or abuse, I am shocked - but also feel an element of understanding because I know it isn't easy and takes huge reserves of patience. And a lot of alcohol. ;-)

Really, thankyou for coming along for the experience with me. Many MANY times writing this blog gave me a space to vent and share. A space to explore and accept emotions.

But. It's done now.

Dear Son and I, and cat...will stay in Sapporo a while longer. While cat is still alive. His condition is getting worse, especially in hot weather. I don't think he will live beyond this year. But who knows? After that, we will wrap up life here, return the rented house and probably rent a small place in central Japan - and then take to the road in the RV for as long as I can drive it safely, and for as long as that kind of living is fun.

If you want to find me on the Internet I have an Instagram account as "harlowamanda", mainly food and flowers...if you request to follow please mention this blog and I might "approve" your follow...

What will become of this blog? I don't know. It'll sit here on the WWW and occasionally pop up in someone's online searches about cross cultural living, or dementia? Or, do I take it off line, or delete it?

Finally - this might make you smile...

This is me, at the British Embassy in Tokyo.

I went to get documents...for...marriage!

Dear Son and I have decided to tie the knot, after all these many years. It'll probably happen later this month, just at the local government office - hand over documents, pay some money and get official stamps. Celebrate with a curry lunch and beer.

The decision was taken back in March - actually nothing to do with Okaasan's passing. Just a realisation, that as we get older many issues will be easier as a married couple: hospital access/medical decisions on behalf of eachother/social welfare/inheritence.

So. Ha!

I think we tested eachother out enough over the years. It seems to be a good fit.

I think Okaasan would probably be happy for us. I hope my parents too. We didn't marry for all these years because we didn't feel the need. But now social norms have got us ;-)

Thankyou again for reading this blog. 

I don't think I'll write again.

Byeeee!!!

What happened next...

 

Welcome back.

So, what happened next.

Okaasan stayed in the house, in her coffin, from Sunday night until Tuesday morning.

TBH (and when isn't this blog?), it was a bit unnerving. I slept upstairs again because I couldn't actually think about sleeping in the room next to the coffin. Everytime we went to "greet" Okaasan and open the coffin window, I was nervous about what we might find.

But there was never any change. Just her face, with the bright red lipstick. Peaceful.

In Japan you "greet" the dead, by ringing the table gong and then putting your hands together in prayer. I told Okaasan I would look after her boy. I hope she knew that.

Tuesday was a glorious bright sunny day. The funeral company staff and the coffin transportation car arrived. We put some of Okaasan's things in the coffin with her - red and pink flowers, two of her favorite scarves, her winter hat and the copies of photographs - her husband, the two boys...that British woman.

Then we drove in our car behind the coffin car to the city crematorium. It's at the center of one of the biggest cemetaries. A big brick building, all echoing halls, stone, high ceilings. Groups of mourners in black waiting for  "their" coffin to be brought in on a gurney at the front entrance. Most of the family groups quite large - 8-15 people. Some people carrying a wooden tablet engraved with the Buddhist after-death name of their loved one.

Traditionally, you see a large, framed photo of the deceased at Japanese funerals. Usually carried by the spouse or first son. But we were told Sapporo city doesn't allow this now at the city facility - privacy concerns and a recognition that not every family follows traditional practices. Didn't bother us - since our group was just us two...and we know what Okaasan looks like :-)

Anyway. Family name called and followed the staff thru the cremation process. It's going to get pretty direct from here...just warning you...

Stand here. Bow here. Take this plastic number tag.

Follow the coffin to the furnace hall.

In my experience, cremation in Western countries is softened by screens/curtains.The coffin sliding quietly back into a hidden area...a period of waiting, and then the funeral company respectfully handing the family a ceramic urn of remains.

In Japan. Much more direct.

We stood at the coffin gurney side in front of furnace doors. Middle aged male staff bowed. Plastic number tags were exchanged. More bowing. Okaasan's coffin was slid into the furnace doors, where cold ash bits were clearly visable on the stone surrounds.

At this point Dear Son cried. I cried a bit, too. It really is the end. This person's life has come to this point. And we are the people witnessing it.

💗

And then. We followed a staffer on a long walk along the echoing halls to a family waiting hall - the length of the walk gives you time to cry and laugh and recover. Then you are in a bright room with big windows, a shop, a cafe, ice cream machine for the kids. Big tables and chairs to sit. Staffer explained what comes next - how to listen for your name and how to check the info screen for the room number for the next stage of the process. He gave us an Info Pack with a flow chart explaining about informing officialdom following death. Useful.

We waited for an hour, the Tv is on in the corner. Families sit around chatting. Kids stuffing themselves with noodles. Old men in never-worn-in-years suits (including Dear Son). It felt like the lobby of a slightly dated hotel. Just with everyone wearing black.

Then our family name called, Room Number 5.

I was prepared for what was coming, because we'd done it when the cat was cremated three years ago.

Back to business. Room Number 5.

Middle aged man. Bowed. We bowed.

Staff wheeled in the gurney, the top was now a wide tray containing ashes, bones, nails (coffin) and other bits. More bows. Handed in the plastic number tag - to make sure the coffin and the remains were the same. Then we were given special wooden chopsticks.

Starting from the feet area of the ashes we used the chopsticks to pick up bones and place them in the ceramic urn.  Yes. That. Mostly tiny pieces. a part of a leg bones. Fragments. The staff helped, because he IS on schedule with that waiting room of families to come. The ashes are warm. There is no escaping what this is, what you are doing. 

The last is the head. My last sight of Okaasan was actually her forehead and eye sockets. Fitting really: she'll be watching me from hula dance heaven and checking that I AM looking after her boy!!!

The Adam's apple bone is placed in a separate little urn - it has special signifiance. The soul resides here? I'm not sure - had to Google it. Apparently, it is actually the 2nd vertebrae. Something to do with it looks like a praying Buddha?

Both urns are covered in a pink (our request) fake silk wrapping.

They are presented formally. More bows. We carried the urns in our arms, out thru the side doors and back to the glorious, sunny Tuesday in the parking area.

All done in about two hours.

We brought Okaasan home. We don't have a home Buddhist altar. So I cleared space on our Dead Family chest, by moving the cat's remains urn and photos to the top of the chest of drawers I could make space for Okaasan.

With her husband and first son's photos. A flower. She will stay there until Dear Son takes her to the family temple down near Tokyo later this spring. Maybe there will be a simple temple ceremony? He said it isn't necessary for me to go.

He now starts the whole post-death work. Contacting elderly family members. Informing the city office, tax people etc etc. Selling the family house that's stood empty for 10 years.

Some families follow the Buddhist customs of memorial days....people can "visit" and pay their respects to the remains. We tried to deter friends  from doing this - because you get into a whole gift giving rigmarole. It's not something we need. But one friend managed to come and "greet" Okaasan for a few minutes.

So. It's done.

The event we knew was coming. Came so quickly. And, was completed so quickly.

We are both fine. We talk about Okaasan, smile at the memories. She hadn't lived here in the house for 5 or 6 years, she hadn't been able to talk to us, see us, understand us for two, or more, years. So - we feel the woman we knew left us some time ago. Dementia is like that.

What happens next?

To us?

To this blog?

Another post, another time.

The Night of Okaasan's Death

 First of all.

Thankyou for comments and DM's of kindness.

Yes, we were shocked too. Something you know is coming - for years - when it comes. And so quickly, it is still shocking.

But we feel relieved for her (and us) that all that struggle is over. The last few years are absolutely NOT what she wanted. The forced feeding, the meds to keep her body alive.

I'm sad that Japan, as a society, makes this the only choice for the end of life. The dementia made Okaasan's situation worse, because even though her body was functioning, in the past 3? years her brain was unable to understand what she was seeing/hearing. We wondered if her brian could respond to the bossa nova music we played her. Maybe. Or, it eased OUR souls to think so.

So. Here we go. The blog about Okaasan's death.

Came on a Sunday. We'd just returned from a morning, regular visit to the vets. Hospital called saying "come quick, blood pressure problems". It was the start of Golden Week holiday, so the hospital was closed to family visits. We went in thru the side entrance and the service elevator to the 5th floor.

Okaasan's blood pressure had been dropping dramatically to...60...but two lots of meds had brought it back up to 77. She looked so-so. The skin around her eyes was mottled, her breathing very ragged inside the oxygen mask.

We stayed about 20 mins, bossa nova music, hand strokes. The nurse said we were welcome to come again Monday. We carried on with our day - a few months ago there was a blood pressure blip, corrected by meds. All families have the stories of the death coming/not coming/coming/not coming visits and calls. Sometimes days, or even weeks. We thought the same.

In the evening  I drank wine with dinner (because ordinary life has to go on, and you don't know WHEN the emergency will come), we went to bed...at our usual ridiculously early time (8 pm!!). Sometime after 10 pm I could hear Dear Son's phone ringing ringing...he can sleep thru earthquakes, so he heard nothing. Then MY phone, then the house phone. They'd called 5 time.

Befuddled in a taxi thru a rainy, cold night to the side entrance and the service elevator.

She'd gone already.

Maybe 20-30 mins before. Standing there by her bed. It was all over. Just like that.

The lights in the room were blazing, the four other occupants were behind curtains, the night nurse staff were friendly and professional. A doctor was summoned to confirm death - another one of those doctors who'd obviously skipped Bedside Manner classes at med school. Nurses run the world anyway. ;-)

And then began the whole: What Happens Next.

We hadn't even contacted a funeral company. So unprepared! Dear Son was on his smartphone scrolling company websites, choosing a price plan and making a call. The hospital night watchman was showing more humanity than the doctor - guiding us where to wait, what to do. Even reminding us to make sure to claim the funeral cost subsidy money from the city office :-)) Thankyou Sir!

Okaasan's bed was brought down the service elevator to a side room with fake white silk drapes, artificial flowers on a  little table - a brass bell bowl and stick (you ring before making a prayer). We waited.

Funeral company arrived about 12.30 am. The nurses came down to bow deeply outside the side entrance. Okaasan was moved into a fake silk body bag and placed on the stretcher inside the funeral company car. Dear Oyomesan (me) go to ride in the back seat right next to Okaasan...and yes...it was a bit unnerving..as the car moved, the body bag shook and and moved....2 hours ago this was Okaasan and I'd stroked her hand and hair. Now this was a dead body in a bag, and I was HOPING the staff had secured it all correctly.

Still with me? I'm that kind of blogger...

Back home and standing in our front garden in the wind and rain.

The only room of the house ready to receive Okaasan was our ground floor Japanese-style room. THANKFULLY, a foreign friend who stayed with us 4 weeks while her new apartment was prepped, had moved out a week before. THANKFULLY, all the bags of paper trash from my retirement cleaning, had also been moved out 3 days before.

As we opened up the big windows onto the garden, and the funeral staff started prepping to enter our home - I was snatching bowls of half eaten cat food, scattered cat toys and my SUP bag out of the room and getting a futon base from the closet.

Okaasan was placed on the futon in our home. A house she hadn't been in for years. Many Japanese families choose to move the body to the funeral company for pre-cremation keeping. But, keeping at home is traditional (and cheaper?).

Maybe you've seen the 2008 Japanese film "Departures" (Okuribito)? The one about the man who goes back to his hometown and works as a mortician? Luckily, I had. So I was kind of prepared for what came next: a woman staff dressed Okaasan in a simple white kimono and did her make up. We were asked about colors for lipstick, flowers, funeral urn. No hesitation - red! Okaasan loved her bright colors. :-)

A coffin was assembled in the room. Lots more fake white silk. Okaasan was eventually placed in the coffin, the lid has a window, with ornate shutters, at face level.

There was practical talk of cremation timetable and money. Too late I remembered I should have offered the staff tea, I made it. But it sat untouched on the kitchen table. Dear Son did the washing up from Sunday night dinner.

The funeral company left us a little table with insense sticks, a candle, a brass table bell. Warnings about not leaving the candle burning if we left the room (earthquakes). Also, warnings that blood pressure meds used pre-death could thin the blood so much that there is...leakage. Not to be shocked if that happened. To mop up leakage and call them if it was bad.

I guess the death business is like that: you have to be respectful and show caring sympathy to customers who are going through a shocking experience. But also you have to guide them in the practicalities.

Finally they left. Okaasan was home again, with us. In a box. Looking peaceful, with alarmingly bright lipstick. :-)

We lit the candle, rang the brass bell and knelt at the coffin to do slightly self-conscious prayers and last conversations. Neither of us cried. Everything had happened so fast. TBH, we'd knelt in the same room three years ago when our cat had died and the pet cremation company came - we'd howled with raw grief at the cancer death of our dear, furry boy. This was different.

Okaasan was very old. She was very sick. If she had had any say in the matter, I'm guessing she would have chosen to die 4-5 years ago when she first stopped eating. But she was dragged by the Japanese legal and medical system on a procession of hospitals and procedures. Kept alive.

On a rainy night in early May, in the city where her mother's family had lived long ago, her 95 years finally closed.

We went to bed in the early hours. Recently, I actually sleep downstairs to escape the nightime noise/restlessness of our remaining senior cat. But on this night (and the next) I moved back upstairs. Couldn't actually bring myself to sleep in the next room to a coffin and a body. Death is a funny time: emotion about the person - but also the emotions linked to our distaste/nervousness about the topic.

And so. That was the day Okaasan died.

I'll leave it for now.

Write next time about the cremation and what follows. Japan has death customs that are far more direct than we do in Western cultures now. You might find it interesting. I did.

Thankyou again for messages. Thankyou for being on this journey with me.

Years of writing this blog, hardly updated in recent times.

Foreign DIL in Japan.

And. So. Goodbye.

 

Goodbye Okaasan.

Kazuko died earlier this week and we have just returned from her funeral.

I will write more another day.

But, today is just to let you know that her 95 years of eventful life have closed and she (thankfully) passed quickly and peacefully into her next adventure.

The end came fairly suddenly, a week ago she had a slight fever and slightly ragged breathing. It's the long spring holiday called Golden Week in Japan, so the hospital is actually closed to family visits. But we suddenly got a call on Sunday morning, and by late Sunday evening she had passed.

Today is a beautiful sunny day. The sky is blue, the cherry blossom and other flowers are everywhere. It's a good day to remember Okaasan, who loved flowers and color and laughter.

More later.