I've started teaching again as of yesterday, though my crosswalk job won't begin until next week. I see friends I haven't seen since the beginning of summer and they offer sympathy and listen to my stories of my mother's last days. When I see my Japanese friends' eyes widen as I relate my month in California, I am struck again about how different the customs and cultures are between Japan and America.
Hopefully today's post will be the last of my Grandma stories. Stories of those last few days.
Last summer Tetsu's mother passed away and immediately a couple of nurses and our family moved in to wash her tenderly and dress her in clean pajamas. The nurse applied a small amount of make-up and then she was removed to the mortuary for "viewing".
I remembered this rite a few days before my mother passed and I expressed a vague desire to Marcy that because Grandma looked so pretty in her bright red pajamas, that maybe we could ask the nurse to change her into those after she died. Marcy looked at me aghast and said that she didn't think that was part of the hospice nurse's duties when their patients passed.
As it turned out when we called the hospice nurse to confirm Grandma' death, her duties were to sign the death certificate, inform the mortuary and arrange for pick-up, and dispose of all remaining medications. The medications' disposal alone was a surprise to Tetsu because although he has always worked in convalescent care, he had never heard of such precautions in Japan. The California hospice nurse collected all of Grandma's medications, tablets, capsules, liquid, dropped them into a Ziplock bag, added detergent and water and smushed everything around until all was a mucky mess. This she disposed of in the garbage can. She gave us all a hug and left.
While we were waiting for the mortuary pickup, Marcy squared her shoulders and said,
"Tani, if you want Grandma in those red pajamas, I've psyched myself up to do it with you. Anything that will make you feel better I'm willing to do!"
I love Marcy for that sentiment but it wasn't that important to me, no one would be seeing Grandma anyway, and I couldn't see us trying to wrestle my deceased mother into her pull on red pajamas... Marcy dodged a bullet!
Not long after this conversation, a truck arrived at our house... to pick up the hospice equipment!!!
"EXCUSE ME!~ We are still USING that equipment as the mortuary hasn't arrived yet! It's not like we can move Grandma to the sofa! Please go pick up someone else's equipment and come back later today!"
Marcy called the mortuary and discovered that there had been a short circuit in communication and the pick-up service had never gotten the request from the mortuary operator. They apologized profusely and promised to send their car over immediately. I whispered to Takumi that it was a good thing that Tetsu wasn't around because he would have exploded. He is such a stickler for scheduling and keeping things glitch free. At a time like this he would have expected the system to flow like clockwork... My California family shrugged the mis-communication as par for the course...
The mortuary people arrived and though very professional and kind, I was interested to see that both the young man and the young woman from the mortuary had very prominent tattoos on their arms and necks. I certainly don't want to be accused of being prejudiced against tattoos, but again, it isn't something seen much in Japan and certainly not on professionals. A tattoo would automatically limit a person's chances of finding a job in Japan unless the tattoos could be covered or concealed. I can't imagine someone with tattoos in Japan working the very formal and ceremonious job of a mortuary employee.
As my mother had requested no viewing, no funeral, no urn, no cemetery plot, when the equipment truck later returned and carted everything away, well, that was that. My Japanese friends are horrified when they hear this. There are rituals and ceremonies that go on for weeks in Japan after a person has passed and the stark end to my stories appears very cold-hearted people in Japan.
Another custom difference that Tetsu pointed out to me was when I brought out Grandma's teddy bear from my suitcase and placed it on my bed.
"Why didn't you leave it with her? She would have wanted it."
Hmm... Well, actually I had said something to similar to Marcy when my mother was taken away... Should I send the teddy bear with her?
"She LOVED that teddy bear! It would just get tossed in the garbage by the mortuary people! Keep it for her Tani!"
And so I did.
