I'm back in SF. I've been more into my emotions and family, and wanting privacy, so I haven't posted much. It's weird. Showing my daily life seems so natural, yet at this very intimate moment, and out of respect for my grandfather and family, I want to keep the funeral private.
For my brother and Dav, who were not able to be there, I took many camera photos and even videos of the priest doing his rituals and chant. Wanting to show what I see is a strong desire, so I discreetly documented the 2 days of rituals and the funeral. But I won't post it here.
However, I do want to share a bit, and I've been asked to describe about the funeral process. Photo-wise is as follows:
The entrance of my grandparent�s house all decked out in funeral decorations. It was freezing, but the funeral company planted various flowers. The lanterns say, "The Yaginuma Household." Anyone seeing black and white lanterns knows that means a funeral.
My mother adjusting her kimino for the funeral.
Preparing the charcoal ink, used in calligraphy, for the priest who will write my grandfather's new name on a special wooden block. In Buddhism, when a human passes away, he becomes a spirit and a disciple of the Buddha. In essence, he returns to his spiritual path. My grandfather's name was 柳沼清作 Yaginuma Seisaku. As a spirit, the priest gave him the name 瑞岳清穏; Zuigaku Seion. The characters mean auspicious, male-like, "sei" from his original name, and gentle.
The plum Ume tree blossoming. My grandfather was quite the gardener, and he made sure there was always something blooming or beautiful to look at no matter what the season.
My uncle and cousin sharing a good time during the dinner after the funeral. This whole experience brought the family very close together. We dropped everything but what mattered: family, reflecting life, and appreciating each other.
My dad and I taking a walk on the morning of the funeral. We almost got lost, but reminisced about the memories the neighborhood brought us. I got severe spring allergies after innocently walking around without a mask and medication. I paid dearly!
A daikon garden my dad and I passed. My, what big daikon!
My mother and aunt getting dressed in a black kimono. My mother actually borrowed the outfit. But my aunt had one with the crest of the family she married into and my aunt-in-law had her family crest kimono that she had inherited but never worn before. My grandparent's neighbor kindly dressed them as it's impossible to tie the obi knot by oneself. Putting on a kimono is not simple.
About the funeral:
I realized how important funerals are. The process of many rituals really does help one adjust to the new reality. The priest came over and did about an hour of chanting and giving incense. Family members gave incense as well as guests at the wake. From an outsider, picking up bits of incense, putting it to your forehead, then placing it gently on a burning block, then praying, might seem weird. And this is in addition to sitting seiza style for an hour as the priest chants. But if you grow up with that, it's full of meaning. And doing that for my grandfather helped me realize he really passed away. The neighbors came and distant family members came. It was truly a shared experience.
Once my grandfather was prepared for showing at home, he was never left alone. His children took turns staying by his side, but the last night before the funeral, we all spent the night there. It was like camp a bit, since there was little room and we put down futon wherever there was space, but we shared this last night. I think it's special to have this time at home with the person who passed away, to be able to grieve just with family for as long as you need.
For the actual funeral, we had another long priest led ritual at the house. The priest wore a pretty magnificent outfit and had a horsetail looking tool that he swished around several times. The rituals were so complicated that he took the time to explain to us about what we needed to do. Once that was done, the men of the family carried the box with my grandfather to a special car and we all drove to the crematorium. There, we waited an hour, then were presented with the remaining bones. It may sound strange, but I think it's actually very healthy to have a ritual where family members pick the bones with special chopsticks and gently place them in the final vase. The crematorium officer explained certain bone parts so we knew what we were touching. The throat part (Adam's apple) is the most important and then the skull is placed at the top. We also placed my grandfather's glasses inside.
Even in a vase, he will remain at the house for 49 days until he is put into the cemetary. Then on various dates having to do with "7" there are more rituals. So in the end, he's certainly still with us, even though in a different form. For me, I've already given incense here in SF and said, "hey there" to my grandfather.
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