i am sorry that i haven't been posting regularly (to the empty reverberating space in this echo chamber of mine). things have been hectic (as usual).

my japan grandmother passed away a week ago today. she had been having back pains, and my dad had told us that he thought she was deteriorating. i visited her with the kids about four or five days before she passed. she was bedridden and in pain, unable to find a comfortable position. i tried what i could to alleviate her pain, through touch and adjusting her pillows. at one point, she put her hand on mine, and i wasn't sure, but i like to think- i'm not sure...

i went over to her place early the next morning, i think it was 3 am or so, and tried to "break in" through the sliding doors. for some reason, they were locked up. it was pretty suspicious, i admit, this young hooligan wandering about in a retirement community, climbing fences and such. and there was this old woman walking her dog at around that time, and at one point, i passed her by. i just admitted to her that i was worried about my grandmother, and for some reason, the answer seemed to fly. at least she didn't call the cops... in any case, i remember sitting in the dark on gravel just outside her window, listening for any sound, praying that she was okay...

the next few days seemed to see improvement in her condition. she was able to get up. the problem at that point was getting her to eat, and to have bms. i assumed that everything was on, if not the right track, then at least a better one. my dad was going to her place about five times a day, and notifying us that he thought we didn't need to have her move in with anyone...

then on tuesday, it happened. i got the call after a particularly miserable day at work. i felt like something dropped, and left a hollow ringing space in me. i raced over to her place, with kids in tow. a fire truck, ambulance, and a couple of police cars were already there. i went in, amidst the crowd, and saw a couple of emt workers trying to do cpr on her. to see them pumping her chest, so fragile and white beneath their gloved hands... i felt- i don't know. my mom, as usual, was voicing the emotions for the family, but it was my dad that i sympathized with the most. he was moving around in the background, keeping busy, but whenever he stopped, i could see the sadness in his face... his own mother, last tie to a family fraught with tragedies, and lives cut short.


today, i attended my grandmother's viewing. i still had/have a hard time understanding what i feel. i always think i should feel more, that the sadness should come welling up, and overflowing me. but instead, there is a deadness, a weight, a silence within me that just holds me numb. at the time, i felt a grating frustration at the way my mother handled the whole viewing affair; it felt like some kind of circus or something, with the great grandchildren reluctantly giving pre-written speeches, with people taking pictures with the deceased (so wrong...), and with my grandmother's paintings being given away, as at an auction... ultimately, however, i realize that my mother does what she can, stepping into the void of my father's silence and passivity. this is her way of expressing love and appreciation to my grandmother. my father's way is hidden and solitary...

i approached my grandmother's body awkwardly, especially in the "circus" atmosphere established by my mother. before returning, i said a few clumsy words, staring at some corner of a chair, not knowing who i was supposed to be talking to on such occasions, and why: the deceased? god? this audience? and what was i supposed to be saying, to what end? to get some kind of emotional rise? in any case, i talked about how my grandmother had always been nonjudgmental and unfailingly supportive. it was my grandmother who set up my stay at kannonji temple in hokkaido, after hearing about my interest in zen buddhism. i spoke about her quiet ways. her love of art, of painting, of fine and meticulous work. i recall admiring the way that she helped me pack my things into a box when i was leaving japan, how she folded everything precisely so, tied parcels up, arranging things like a puzzle so that they fit perfectly...

the one good thing about the viewing was that i got to see tomoko and yuuko once again. tomoko is my cousin. she actually was here only a few weeks ago. her departure back to japan seemed to be the trigger causing my japan grandmother's decline. no, i won't go so far as to say that, but... anyway. yuuko is tomoko's mother. they are both kind, bold, intelligent spirits...