Never as bad as it sounds

We are going to my grandparents' grave tomorrow. This morning I was informed that today was the anniversary of my grandmother's death. Here are some possible ways my mother could have told me, followed by my translation of what she actually said:
Casual - "Did you know today was the day that Baba died?"
Proper - "Did you know Baba passed away on this very day three years ago?"
Traditional - "Did you know that today is the anniversary of Baba's death?"
Yoko - "Did you know today was the day Baba croaked?"

Okay, maybe the Japanese didn't quite translate as 'croak' but it was definitely beneath casual in how she said it. The thing is, I know nobody rolled over in their grave because we all know and love her for exactly the fact that she says things like this. After all, she did call her mother (though I guess this term really exists in Japan) 'Honorable bag lady' instead of 'Mom.' I guess it never is as bad as it sounds.

It was "The Blair Witch Project" redux

Do you remember the scene where the kids find that little bundle with something suggestive of inner workings and something suggestive of teeth and the horror that perhaps swept through your guts when you saw it?

Well, yesterday I was browsing through a tin that contained several medals my grandfather had been given, as well as some other miscellaneous items that had hitherto not been examined. One of my favorite pastimes at my grandmother's house had always been to hunt for treasure. The treasure being old photographs which my grandmother had kept all of out of what I can only assume was a sense of duty, though I must say her organizational methods left something to be desired. But that's part of what made it exciting for me; every time I visited, I went through forgotten drawers and found treasures of photographs that I still feel desperately attracted to. Perhaps they give me a sense of history, of something beyond my self and my brief life. I would feel a thrill as deep as the archetypal archaeologist discovering Tutankamon's burial site when I would find a photo of my great grandmother on her 20th birthday (20 is a right of passage in Japan), or the high and then low of finding a photomat sleeve inside a box, at the bottom of a drawer in the storage room, only to discover a perfectly preserved, never been opened disposable rain poncho from what appears to be the late '70's by the look of the model. So, poking around old storage tins and boxes has a certain allure for me.

In this tin was a small wooden box. I opened it. It contained a weathered envelope. In this envelope was a paper with writing on it folded around something slightly bulky. I looked at the squiggles (please recall my illiteracy) and could make out my grandmother's maiden name but nothing else. So I unfolded it. Out came another, tinier package also wrapped in rice-paper. I gingerly unfolded it to reveal its contents. In my hand I saw something grey, like a bit of rope bunched up; then I noticed something fleshy and creepy among the ropey. The sensation I had was identical to the one I had seeing that bundle with teeth. Feeling slightly vomitous, I ran down stairs to show it to my mom.

"What is this?!" I asked, showing her the writing on the bundle.
"Where did you find this?" she responded, laughing a little.
"WHAT IS IT?" I said, close to hysterics, "It's Baba's umbilical cord, isn't it?! ISN'T IT!"
She laughed at me. But, I was right. I just knew it the minute I saw it. Man, how I wish I had been wrong! Why couldn't it have been a poncho! (vomit)

If the shoe fits...

I noticed a pair of unfamiliar grandma-like sandals in our genkan-entryway and thought maybe there was someone here. So I asked my mom, but she said no and why do I ask. "Because there are a pair of old granny shoes in the genkan that I've never seen before."
"Oh, those are mine," she tells me.
"Those granny shoes?" I ask.
"Yes, I thought I'd start wearing them from now...," she responds.
I thought about it for a minute.
"Because you're getting old or because it's getting warm?"
She laughed so I thought she was going to say, "Both" but she didn't say anything at all. Sometimes her actions are super CB*

* Yay! Footnote number 2
cho bimyo means 'very hard to tell' - I recently read an article about this kind of Japanese that they are calling KY-style Japanese. I want to bring it to the US because if it's possible to make something that already is kind of meaningless to me even more meaningless while somehow retaining some significance, then I'LL DO IT.

Some things you just can't leave out

I was asking my mom about this area called Ebisu and she said that I'd been there before.

"You know that place where Baba (my grandma) used to go? Where they lay you?"

Before you start thinking things about my grandma, you must know that when my mom said that, she also made a horizontal motion with her hands. I knew where she meant - it was like a physical therapy place for your spine... anyway I was laughing so hard, obviously she knew that she had said something funny.

"Lay you down?" she added.

"You HAVE to say 'down'," I told her. "Have to!" It was too weird to talk about the implied meaning of the partial phrase, but in any case we both had a big laugh.