The Funeral

Dressed in black, we met Zaydeh for breakfast at the hotel. Zaydeh smiled at seeing us in such unusual garb and commented, “Who decided on this colour anyway?” He had a point. I was one of very few people at the actual funeral who were all in black.
Breakfast was awful. I was smiling too much, trying to make everyone feel better. My sister was quiet, my mother was sad, and Zaydeh was distraught. He couldn’t believe he was burying his wife of 64 years – and neither could we. Those two had always been a formidable unit of teasing, cooking, and never-ending affection. The question began to rise in my mind, “What are you supposed to do when your family is broken?”
Sitting between my sister and my eleven-year-old cousin, Mo, I felt ridiculous. “I can’t believe I’m at my grandmother’s funeral. I’ve never been to a funeral and now I’m at her’s! Impossible.” In the past few years all of my four grandparents have been teetering into poorer health, but I never thought that Bubbeh would be the first to go.
My grandmother, being an unwavering defender of the women’s liberation, was honoured by a female canter in a purple suit. The canter, as it turned out, was the first women ever to perform a ceremony in the Orthodox Jewish cemetery where Bubbeh was buried. Breaking the moulds even after life. The canter led us in Yiddish folk songs and in prayers. We followed the pallbearers to the gravesite beneath a magnificent old tree. The tree reminded me so much of Bubbeh, it almost surged with her spirit. I immediately identified it as “The Bubbeh Tree” and I feel confident that it was a place she would have picked out herself, though my grandparents had never reserved their final resting places – optimists well into their mid 80’s. We took turns shoveling earth onto her grave and returned to Elliot Bay for her reception.

At the reception, I felt like I didn’t want to be around people anymore. I had no appetite, though the platters in front of me looked delicious (Bubbeh would not have held back – she was a champion eater). I took a glass of wine and sat out on the steps, looking out at the bay, thinking of how unfair it was for God to take someone we all needed so, so much. Bubbeh said, “God will never let the world end so long as there are ten good people in it.” But with her gone, we’re down to nine.
When I returned to the reception, people had begun telling stories about their times spent with Bubbeh. It was a gift that I was able to remember her through so many different people. She was kind, a good listener, never shied away from making friends with complete strangers, she could out-eat just about anyone, and she never sat down at the dinner table when she was cooking. She truly wanted to know everyone, and she wanted to understand people fully and without judgment. I hope that every one of us was able to take home a part of her spirit and that it makes us all better people in the future.

After everyone went home (“it’s like herding cats!”), I resisted the jet lag induced urge to nap for the next 19 hours and waited for Megan to get off work. Fortunately for me, her office was the next building over from my hotel. It was really nice to see her again – it had been nearly a year since she left Japan! But I was weighed down by grief and exhaustion and I don’t think I expressed my happiness as well as I could have. She took me and Laura out to a great happy hour place where we ate yam fries and tried local beers. It was nice having all of the funeral things over with and being able to relax a little bit, even though we were still very sad. Bubbeh had always known that food could cure just about anything; and I think she and yam fries would have been fast friends.

A Diversion

I thought that my next trip from Japan to the United States would be a one-way ticket representing the end of my JET Programme contract and my time spent in Japan as a teacher. Unfortunately, my first trip back to the US was not under any such circumstances.

My grandmother, known to us as Bubbeh, its Yiddish equivalent, passed away from lung cancer complicated by pneumonia on Sunday, June 7th at a hospital in Stony Brook, Long Island. She and Zaydeh, my grandfather, had once lived in Stony Brook for decades and had long since moved to Seattle to live across from Elliot Bay. The reason for their presence in Long Island was that it was the last spot on their long vacation to visit family and friends all over the world. They flew to Iceland, where they met my parents and explored glaciers and volcanoes. Afterwards, they flew back to London to visit with my parents a bit longer before boarding the Queen Mary and cruising back to New York in style. My grandparents have always been swanky folk. Only a short while after the Queen Mary docked in New York City and Bubbeh had met her older brother for martinis, did she fall ill.

Within 24 hours, friends and loved ones were coming out of the woodworks, racing to say their goodbyes.

I decided to fly back to the US to see my family and to say my goodbyes to Bubbeh, even though they would be a bit late. My schools were characteristically understanding, and they each gave me money for flowers, which they told me is the Japanese custom. I was really touched.
The funeral would be held on that Friday so I left on Thursday afternoon from Tokyo airport. My friend, Kevin, allowed me to use his family’s Delta buddy pass – enabling me a cheap fare from Tokyo to Seattle on standby. The first flight was a breeze – I even got to ride in business class! Unfortunately the flight was from Tokyo all the way to Atlanta, flying directly over Seattle and landing nowhere near it.

At the Atlanta airport I was on a very long list of standbys and was told that, “it didn’t look good.” As I sat, exhausted and unsure of what to do next, I saw my sister standing in line for boarding. Somehow she had found out my flight and booked herself on the same one. In the nick of time, I was put on the flight. It was a miracle. I sat next to an old man who was going to his son’s graduation from the University of Washington. He told me about his ex-wife who was in “lady’s prison” and his fiancée and that he had seen a few UFOs in his time in Georgia. Then he helped me with the in-flight trivia challenge and sure enough, we won a fair few games!

Laura and I met up with Oren and Michele (our uncle and aunt) and waited for my mother at the airport. Only my mother would bring two checked suitcases for a 5-day trip.

We checked into a hotel nearby Zaydeh’s apartment at Elliot Bay. It felt so wonderful to be back, but the reality of the situation was slowly starting to hit and I began to feel numb. Like I was watching myself on a TV screen. This wasn’t my life. The Sreebny women went out for a bowl of clam chowder that evening (at 10pm because the sun never sets in the Pacific Northwest, apparently) and fell asleep at different times, each one of us on our own jet lag.

My Parents Come to the Japans

In late April and early May, my very international mum & dad came for a very Japanese visit! We went to a LOT of places, which was great for me because I haven't really seen that much of Honshu until now!

We first went to Yokohama to see all of the very modern, very beautiful buildings and piers around the city. We also went to Chinatown to eat dumplings. Here are pictures.

Jet-lag got the better of my folks. But they're just so cute!

The very next day, we took a train ride to Hakone. Hakone is also in Kanagawa Prefecture (along with Yokohama). It's a town full of hot springs, craft museums, and fancy hotels! We made use of Ryokan living, craft museums, trains, buses and yukata! I also introduced my parents to the onsen, but... we I haven't any pictures of that.

Hard to imagine that I come from their combined loins.

My parents also managed to visit my elementary schools! My dad had a BLAST at one of them on his very first full day in Japan. The second elementary school involved a much shorter visit and meatloaf shaped like a koi with a corn kernel eyeball! Mmmmm ketchup scales! We were also treated by my BOE to dinner at the onsen (with a beautiful view) and a ferry ride on Ine-bay around the boathouses! And what trip to Tango would be incomplete without a steak dinner at the Ikari Farm and a visit to the Whirling Giants of Death™?






Finally we ended our vacation in Kyoto. I have almost no pictures of the fabulous sight-seeing that my parents went on due to the fact that I was deathly ill. I mostly watched the BBC. I did, however, get out for one day with my dad and we saw the Golden Pavilion; overrated, but shiny.