Sometimes, in the aftermath of a natural disaster, there just isn’t time to properly grieve…like right now in Japan where there are too many bodies (or unidentified bodies left unclaimed, or no declarations of death because over twelve thousand missing persons haven’t been found) because of the recent earthquake and tsunami.
Typically, Japanese tradition includes a wake, a cremation of the deceased (99.81 of all deceased Japanese are cremated), a burial in a family grave or a scattering of the ashes and, occasionally, a memorial service.
Here is a recent CNN story, by Kyung Lah, about one Japanese family’s impromptu funeral:
“Most children in Japan are normally celebrating graduation at this time of the year, looking forward to the commencement of the next chapter of their young lives.
“But at Rikuzentakata No. 1 Junior High School, students are mourning the end of young lives — three so far, they say.
“On Monday they crowded around a car, carrying the body of their friend, 16-year-old Hiroki Sugawara.
“This was not a planned funeral. It was barely a funeral at all. But this was the best his parents could do, given the massive number of fatalities in Japan’s historic tsunami.
“Hiroki’s parents and his two brothers drove his body to the school, now an emergency shelter. Exposing his deeply battered face, crushed in the devastating tsunami, Hiroki’s father said he wanted to give his friends a chance to say goodbye to the boy who loved to play soccer with his teammates.
“ ‘Don’t give up hope,’ wept Hiroki’s father, speaking before two dozen of Hiroki’s young friends. ‘Keep living for my son.’
“ ‘Hiroki shouldn’t be dead,’ said his best friend, Takuma Kinno. Hiroki was absent from school the day the tsunami hit, so he was with his grandparents in their home, sitting on low-lying ground. His friends were at school, which sits high above the tsunami-devastated neighborhoods.
“ ‘I’ve lost my best friend,’ said Kinno. ‘Hiroki died young. He should have lived a long life.’
“The scope of Rikuzentakata’s devastation boggles the imagination of the outside observer. Everywhere you look, homes lie like broken sticks for miles. Scattered in the debris, there are signs of shattered lives: a child’s toy hammer, a stroller and a 10-speed bicycle.
“For the children who lived in these neighborhoods and survived, it’s simply incomprehensible, say aid organizations.
“ ‘We’ve already spoken to children having nightmares and unable to sleep. They’re frightened of the sea, because they believe it’s going to come back. They’re frightened of being indoors because the building shook so violently during the earthquake. So there’s absolutely a chance that these children will have serious difficulties in coming to terms with what happened to them,’ says Save the Children’s Andrew Wander.
“Hiroki Sugawara’s family spent only about 10 minutes at the school. They didn’t want a scene, they just wanted to give their son’s friends a chance to say farewell.
“Some of Hiroki’s female classmates hugged his mother, who wept in deep, audible sobs. Hiroki’s soccer teammates stood crying, unable to approach the car. Hiroki’s young brother clutched his hands and bowed his head in a stance of sorrow too mature for his young frame.
“Hiroki’s parents bowed deep to his son’s classmates, as is typical for the end of a Japanese funeral. His father covered his son’s face and slid behind the wheel of the car, next to his son.
“It defies the natural order for a parent to bury his child. But there is nothing natural or orderly these days for Rikuzentakata.”
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.
I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.
Pondering the peas, I couldn’t help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.
‘Hello Barry, how are you today?’
‘H’lo , Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus’ admirin’ them peas. They sure look good.’
‘They are good, Barry. How’s your Ma?’
‘Fine. Gittin’ stronger alla’ time.’
‘Good. Anything I can help you with?’
‘No, Sir. Jus’ admirin’ them peas.’
‘Would you like to take some home ?’ asked Mr.. Miller.
‘No, Sir. Got nuthin’ to pay for ’em with.’
‘Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?’
‘All I got’s my prize marble here.’
‘Is that right? Let me see it’ said Miller.
‘Here ’tis. She’s a dandy.’
I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?’ the storeowner asked.
‘Not zackley but almost.’
‘Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble.’ Mr. Miller told the boy.
‘Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.’
Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, ‘There are two other boys like him in our community; all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn’t like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.’
I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado, but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.
Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died.
They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.
Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts … all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband’s casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her, and moved on to the casket.
Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.
Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband’s bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.
‘Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim ‘traded’ them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size, they came to pay their debt.’ ‘We’ve never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,’ she confided, ‘but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho.’
With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.
The Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away.
Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles:
A fresh pot of coffee you didn’t make yourself.
An unexpected phone call from an old friend.
Green stoplights on your way to work.
The fastest line at the grocery store.
A goog sing-along song on the radio.
Your keys found right where you left them.
It’s not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived.
~W. E. Petersen
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
Japan has endured many disasters and is accustomed to dealing with disaster. If you look at the Japanese citizens, despite the recent 8.9 magnitude earthquake, the resulting tsunami and now the radiation scare, they have remained reserved and relatively calm with a stiff upper lip…and are helping each other…and are organized.
Take a look at the still-standing Monterey Hotel in Sendai (the city of one million citizens on the Japanese coast where the 33ft tsunami waves struck, causing extensive flooding): Two chefs dressed in their signature hats from the hotel restaurant spooned out hot soup for breakfast. All passers-by were invited to eat. For many, it was their first hot soup since the tsunami. Remarkably, the people who lined up for the soup took only one cup—they didn’t get back in line for a second cup; that wouldn’t be fair.
And how about the Elementary School in Sendai, now home to hundreds of tsunami victims: In a third-floor classroom, families self-organized themselves on cardboard boxes and blankets. No one family has a larger space than the other, just as you see at any average family festival. Shoes are not allowed on the blankets, in order to maintain sanitary conditions. Food is shared as equally as possible, even if one person eats or drinks a little less in order for everyone to have some sustenance.
And then there’s a restaurant owner, a man who completely lost his home in the tsunami and is now staying at the evacuation center: He’s giving away FREE food to strangers. –“I just want people to be happy,” he says.
–All are remarkable stories of compassion and assistance from an area having seen unimaginable hardships.
But don’t be mistaken. According to friends in Japan, Japanese citizens are very nervous and anxious about what is unfolding with the continuing aftershocks and uncertain radiation levels (which you can’t see, taste or smell).
Sending strength to those dealing with this hardship…
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
“Worry and stress affects the circulation, the heart, the glands, the whole nervous system, and profoundly affects heart action.”
~Charles W. Mayo, M.D.
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
“Even too much sunshine can be devastating, while only with rain can growth occur. Accept both as part of the growing process in the garden of life.”
~ Donald S. Neviaser
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
Don’t let your mind bully your body into believing it must carry the burden of its worries.
~Astrid Alauda
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
Give your stress wings and let it fly away.
~Terri Guillemets
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
We are not here to see through each other. We are here to see each other through.
~Author Unknown
Canadian girls, Tatiana and Krista Hogan (born October 25, 2006), are the only conjoined twins in the world who share a brain. Sensory tests have shown that the optical nerve of one child can be received in the visual cortex of the brain of the other. This means that it is possible for the girls to see out of each other’s eyes.
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
“What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret than our willingness to choose life.”
~Leo Buscaglia
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James
People grow through experience if they meet life honestly and courageously. This is how character is built.
~Eleanor Roosevelt
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My Friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James