Late morning and early afternoon yesterday were reserved for haka mairi (visiting family grave sites). Although I have accompanied others on trips like this, my connection with M and the manner in which her mother and grandmother passed away made this special. I watched as M and her father washed the stone and laid offerings of 
tea and coffee -- drinks that both of them enjoyed in life. After the flowers were watered and repotted, we lit some incense and prayed. All I could muster was a hello, yet M's dad seemed to realize that. "Her mom would have loved to meet you. I couldn't even imagine." My day was made. 
We then drove to M's grandpa's house and met her uncle and aunt as well. Although quite nervous at first, the welcome was so warm and genuine that I almost forgot I had never met them. The uncle is major Karate instru
ctor, but has turned to boxing recently to stay fit. He is not able to drink alcohol for the next two weeks, but we never really discovered why. The aunt is a runner and it didnt take long to discover that she is an enthusiastic host. There was no way she could have known we were coming, but she had prepared a whipped cream, almond, and blackberry pound cake "just in case." We were also offered cantelope and blackberries that were grown in grandpa's garden. Delicious. M's grandpa mirrored my father's dad to the point in raised a near painful dichotomy of feelings within me. He couldnt say enough about how happ
y he was that I was so proficient in Japanese, but although I worked so diligently over the last 10 years to endeavor the language, I did so at the expense of learning Spanish. I never was able to understand my grandpa in his native language like I understood M's yesterday. It hurt at first, but then I began to realize that although I may not have remembered/understood all the words my grandpa used, I could never forget the feeling of his course hands holding mine crossing streets or walking through a flea market. Or the way he made me and my brothers laugh. A curled finger against the strength of all three of us. A smile during the darkest times. Shoulders and arms that held an entire family together.
y he was that I was so proficient in Japanese, but although I worked so diligently over the last 10 years to endeavor the language, I did so at the expense of learning Spanish. I never was able to understand my grandpa in his native language like I understood M's yesterday. It hurt at first, but then I began to realize that although I may not have remembered/understood all the words my grandpa used, I could never forget the feeling of his course hands holding mine crossing streets or walking through a flea market. Or the way he made me and my brothers laugh. A curled finger against the strength of all three of us. A smile during the darkest times. Shoulders and arms that held an entire family together. After the visit we went shopping at various stores. I picked up a knit hat and some golf shorts. Although I enthusiastically looked for items not available in the states, I increasingly discovered the reason why -- pretty over the top stuff.
We returned home, watched some Sumo and then went out to the driving range. I hate the ranges in Japan as most all are infested with mosquitos and force the player to hit off mats. This one was no different, but I still manage
d a good time. I shanked a lot because of the mats (for some reason), but had a great time. We hit a lot of balls. Had iced coffee and cooled off with cold rags a number of times. M's dad hits a good ball. M was having issues like me. Dinner included high-end meat purchased from a store in town. We grilled it ourselves in the"shabu shabu"style. Delicious. We had beers and then I made the mistake of getting in the 
automatic chair. Again. Asleep in less than 5 minutes.
automatic chair. Again. Asleep in less than 5 minutes. Here are more pictures of M's house. 
RAMEN!!!
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