Kiddo, not surprisingly, had a lot of questions when her Baba died (FYI, "Baba" is kid-Japanese for Grandma, "Jiji" is for Grandpa). She was pretty direct about the whole thing. Before the funeral, when her Baba's body was in the house she was very interested in seeing it. She did comment that it looked like she was sleeping and she did ask as to where, if she wasn't here anymore, did Baba go?
At times like that I wish I were a religious man. It must be nice to have the Heaven (or Elysium Fields or Fólkvangr or whatever) answer in your hip pocket. No questions. No doubt. BAM! She went there. End of story.
But I'm not. So I don't.
I think we landed on something about Baba being with her angels up above. I made sure to mention that a little piece of Baba will be inside of Kiddo forever so please take care of it.
For anyone wondering, this is what a four-year-old wears to a funeral in Japan.
Once, when we were still in Japan, she asked "Is Jiji going to get a new Baba?" We said probably not and she asked, "So he's going to be alone?" Her concern was kind of sweet. We promised her that he wouldn't be all alone because he still had lots of friends and family and that her cousins and aunt and uncle would be right there to spend time with him. I don't know if it made her feel any better but thinking about it makes me feel a little better.
And now if you'll excuse me, I am going to hand things over to Mimi for a minute:
After Philip went back to Seattle, Yuki and I had ten days in Japan. We had breakfast and lunch with Jiji and the cousins and went out each afternoon to do something, which also got me out of the house. While I was often just spaced out or fighting to hold back tears while we were on the subway or at our destination of the aquarium or a park, I was glad she was with me and gave me something to do in between trying to organize, pack, and throw away my mother's belongings. Let me tell you, that is a daunting and emotionally exhausting task.
At night, we would just decompress and chat. One night, Yuki was looking out the window and when I asked her what she was doing she said, "I'm saying bye-bye to Baba." Then on a different night, we were talking about Baba being up in the sky with her angels and she said, "I took her heart and put it in you." I had to ask her to say that again because I was not certain if I heard her correctly. I did. I like to believe that that was true.
I feel that perhaps this would have been much more difficult had I not been a mother. Having a child, especially a daughter, is helping the wound.
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(Hi, Philip to wrap up.) It's weird, now, to be writing here. Mimi's father used to print our blog posts for Mimi's mother to read. She didn't have a lot of time at home to spend in front of the computer so she would take a folder with her on the subway and read them when she traveled.
Once she wrote:
After talking with you, I went out to a violin concert alone. As I was leaving Daddy handed me your recent blog, and I read it on the train to and from Ueno Concert Hall. It is so entertaining that I giggled and grinned at times alone. It is such amusing writing and Yuki will be grateful when she reads it as she grows up. Yuki is lucky to have you as parents.
I am struck by her absence at weird moments. I guess that's how it goes. I am sad to think that she isn't out there, riding the subway to some important meeting or other, reading about the adventures of her granddaughter who lives so very far away.
At times like that I wish I were a religious man. It must be nice to have the Heaven (or Elysium Fields or Fólkvangr or whatever) answer in your hip pocket. No questions. No doubt. BAM! She went there. End of story.
But I'm not. So I don't.
I think we landed on something about Baba being with her angels up above. I made sure to mention that a little piece of Baba will be inside of Kiddo forever so please take care of it.
For anyone wondering, this is what a four-year-old wears to a funeral in Japan.Our four-year-old, at least.
A few days ago she wanted to know whether Baba was above Japan or above Seattle. I told her "Both. That's how it works." and that either satisfied her or confused her enough that there were no follow up questions. I will talk more with her about it as we go on, as I'm making every effort to answer her questions (about everything) honestly but in the right way for a person her age. I just hope I'm not messing her up too much right now with my vaguery. Once, when we were still in Japan, she asked "Is Jiji going to get a new Baba?" We said probably not and she asked, "So he's going to be alone?" Her concern was kind of sweet. We promised her that he wouldn't be all alone because he still had lots of friends and family and that her cousins and aunt and uncle would be right there to spend time with him. I don't know if it made her feel any better but thinking about it makes me feel a little better.
And now if you'll excuse me, I am going to hand things over to Mimi for a minute:
After Philip went back to Seattle, Yuki and I had ten days in Japan. We had breakfast and lunch with Jiji and the cousins and went out each afternoon to do something, which also got me out of the house. While I was often just spaced out or fighting to hold back tears while we were on the subway or at our destination of the aquarium or a park, I was glad she was with me and gave me something to do in between trying to organize, pack, and throw away my mother's belongings. Let me tell you, that is a daunting and emotionally exhausting task.
At night, we would just decompress and chat. One night, Yuki was looking out the window and when I asked her what she was doing she said, "I'm saying bye-bye to Baba." Then on a different night, we were talking about Baba being up in the sky with her angels and she said, "I took her heart and put it in you." I had to ask her to say that again because I was not certain if I heard her correctly. I did. I like to believe that that was true.
I feel that perhaps this would have been much more difficult had I not been a mother. Having a child, especially a daughter, is helping the wound.
____________________________________________
(Hi, Philip to wrap up.) It's weird, now, to be writing here. Mimi's father used to print our blog posts for Mimi's mother to read. She didn't have a lot of time at home to spend in front of the computer so she would take a folder with her on the subway and read them when she traveled.
Once she wrote:
After talking with you, I went out to a violin concert alone. As I was leaving Daddy handed me your recent blog, and I read it on the train to and from Ueno Concert Hall. It is so entertaining that I giggled and grinned at times alone. It is such amusing writing and Yuki will be grateful when she reads it as she grows up. Yuki is lucky to have you as parents.
I am struck by her absence at weird moments. I guess that's how it goes. I am sad to think that she isn't out there, riding the subway to some important meeting or other, reading about the adventures of her granddaughter who lives so very far away.
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xo
PS I also love Yuki's dress and would like it in adult size, please.