But I’ve heard it’s the small things in life that matter.
Today is August 15.
It was raining.
Not like thunderstorm raining. Just that light drizzle that you can feel, but practically stay dry.
After driving for almost an hour, arrived. At the cemetery.
Japanese cemeteries are so much prettier than American ones, really. I would have taken a picture, but I didn’t have the heart to.
But instead of just a plaque or tombstone, there’s a whole shrine. And it’s so beautiful, and so sad.
We walked past rows and rows of them until we stopped and my mom turned to me and said Watashi no okaasan to otoosan. My mom and dad.
She took out some food we had bought at the market before leaving, and carefully set it in front of the shrine. She kneeled down and looked forward in a lost gaze.
She started crying softly.
I didn’t know what to do.
Death can be so complicated.
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