My Last Days In Japan
My last days in Japan were unusual in so many ways, mostly because I wasn’t totally sure if I was leaving indefinitely. It turns out that I was. And although I know I will forever have a strong connection to Japan, and that I will be back eventually, there is not one day that passes without me thinking of it, loving it, missing it.
My last days in Japan were spent in Tokyo, a second home to my place in Osaka. The days were filled with sojourns in Yoyogi park, greasy ramen and fancy sushi, rockabilly dancers and kabuki performers, shopping in Harajuku, and trying to soak it all up, smell it, see it, remember it. I’m so thankful for those last days in Japan.
And then, the journey I’ve done so many times before. The journey to the airport or train station, the journey that will take me away from a place I called home or a place I loved dearly; this year, I’ve had those journeys to the Osaka train station, to the Tokyo airport, to the St. Petersburg airport, to the Halifax airport and to the Toronto airport, all places I don’t know when I’ll see again. I never like those train or car rides, the ones when I stare out the window feeling lost, the ones when it always seems to be raining.
Perhaps I should smile on those journeys, happy and grateful to have had such amazing experiences in such amazing locations. For some reason, though, it still hurts me so much to say goodbye.