Obachan’s Funeral

     “Obachan” died on January 22, 2019 in Seattle.  She was a very generous person.  She had set aside money for family to attend her funeral in Hawaii.  The ceremony in Hawaii was really an inurnment.  Her assisted living facility hosted a memorial on January 25.

     The memorial followed a “wake” on the evening of the 22^nd.  The facility allowed the body to remain overnight (time of death was 9:50 a.m.) and many staff members and residents dropped in to pay their last respects.  Quite different than most places who want a body removed immediately.  Shizuko’s body was cremated on January 24.

     We were in Tucson at the time and chose not to attend that ceremony.  Thirteen of us traveled to Hawaii, arriving on March 9.  That number included children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and two nieces.

     On Sunday, Michelle’s family took the cremains on a final tour of the island, including a swap meet.  It was a trip that Obachan made many times as a tour guide for the Japanese.

     Monday evening, we boarded a boat and headed out into the ocean on a “Sunset Cruise” where a package containing some of the cremains were placed in the sea. 

     Many years ago, in 1971, we cast a few of Walter’s ashes into the sea, as he had requested.  We were able to do that from the shoreline in those days.  We were supposed to be three miles out on this occasion, but the captain fudged quite a bit on that distance because it was a bit rough, and a couple of us were subject to sea sickness.

      The captain shut down the engine, opened the back gate, and the daughters committed the ashes to the ocean.  We paused long enough to shoot a few more photos, then headed back to harbor.  We 

had hopes of seeing a few whales, but that didn’t happen.

      It was growing dark as we disembarked.  We travelled to a hotel where Obachan loved to dine.  We celebrated her life with a nice meal.  We lacked one who retired due to motion sickness.

      The inurnment took place Tuesday March 12, 2019, fifty days after death, an appropriate interval, I’m told, in the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, also known as Punchbowl because it is the crater of an extinct volcano.

If you are a “Hawaii 50” watcher, you may recognize the monument from the opening shots on that show.

   A clergyman, who was Michelle’s high school classmate, prayed in three languages, Hawaiian, Japanese, and English.  His wife and two other ladies joined him in a traditional Hawaiian song, ending with “Aloha Oe”, sung by all.

      Four or five locals joined the family beneath the small shelter.  Following that brief ceremony, we walked some 50 or 60 yards to the gravesite.  A two-man crew from the cemetery, retired servicemen, took over. 

     They removed a sheet of plywood containing sod from over the grave.  They removed a cover from a cement vault.  The clergyman carried the vase with the ashes from the shelter to the grave site.  The three of them placed the urn into the vault.  The crew did a “Present Arms,” saluted, observed a moment of silence.    

      Under their direction, we all took a turn at dropping flower petals into the vault round the urn.  When all the flower petals were in the vault, the crewmen replaced the vault cover.  They then used shovels to take soil from their truck and packed it around and over the vault.

      I couldn't keep myself from thinking how much it was like setting a fence post, with shovels, dirt, and tamping iron.  When the soil had been removed from the truck and placed in the grave, the men took the sod from the plywood and carefully placed it over the grave.  That was tamped and manicured with soil to fill in the gaps.  When they were done, you could not tell there was ever a disturbance of the earth.

     One worker unearthed a flower vase hidden beneath the sod.  While he was doing that, his coworker fetched a pitcher of water from a nearby hydrant to fill the vase.  The great grandchildren placed some flowers in the vase.

     Everyone was invited to attend another meal at a Japanese restaurant.  Following the meal, we all disbursed to rest and recover.  Half of the mourners left on Wednesday.  Those headed for Denver had to alter plans because the snowy cyclone on the planes shut down DIA on Wednesday.  It was tough finding a flight for Thursday.  The last of us left on Friday, and the funeral was over.

      The entire trip, the meals, the ceremony were typical of Obachan’s generosity.  May she be blessed as she blessed us.    

     

    Obituary

     After living a long and what she always considered a lucky and wonderful life, Shizuko O. Johnson, age 90, passed away peacefully on the morning of January 22, 2019, in Seattle, Washington.  Shizuko was born in the Yoyogi neighborhood of Tokyo, Japan, the seventh of ten siblings.  She was proud to be an Edo-ko, a child of Edo, whose family lineage stretched back to the time when Tokyo was still known as Edo.  As a young girl, she loved helping her father and grandfather host the Obon celebration in Yoyogi annually.  They played the taiko drum and sang while she helped lead the dances.

     At school, Shizuko was the abacus champion and volleyball team captain.  She loved to sing and dance.  One day, while attending a women’s business college, her friend convinced her to give her moral support at an audition with the post-war Ernie Pyle Show which would be performing at the famous Takarazuka Theatre in the Ginza.  On a lark, Shizuko decided to audition too and was selected to join the troupe.

      It was during this time that she met her future husband, Walter Johnson.  They married, had their first daughter, Patricia, and then decided to move to Honolulu, Hawaii in 1949.  Once there, Shizuko began a career as a radio announcer with KHON and KPOI airing a popular Japanese language children’s program.  They returned to Tokyo in 1954 and had their second daughter, Michelle.  In 1964, the family moved to the United States, first to Denver and then to Honolulu in 1966.  Shizuko soon returned to her career as a radio announcer, airing a variety music program for KZOO radio station.  She also worked in the fabric department of the Shirokiya Department Store in Ala Moana Center.

     One day a tour company from Japan called Shizuko and asked if she could take a few visitors around Oahu.  She said “sure!”  This simple trip around the island helped launch the modern Japanese tourism industry in Hawaii.  Shizuko worked as a tour guide for several large Japanese tour companies until she became the first Japanese woman to obtain a Public Utility Commission license authorizing her to carry passengers in her spacious green Cadillac.  For the next 40 years, Shizuko owned and operated an independent tour company offering customized tours to Japanese tourists.  In addition to running her business, Shizuko served as the President of the Japanese Tour Guide Association for many years.

     Shizuko had a great and lasting love for Hawaii, her adopted home for more than half a century.  As often happens in Hawaii, there came a time when Shizuko had to leave Honolulu to live closer to her daughters on the mainland.  Shizuko lived her last years at the Nikkei Manor in Seattle, Washington, making new friends and meeting old fans who had listened to her radio programs in Hawaii every day!  Shizuko’s family is grateful to the management and staff at Nikkei Manor for the loving, professional care they provided Shizuko and for making every day for her and for all residents a joyful experience.  Shizuko taught everyone there how to clap their hands the Japanese way and how to dance the Tokyo Ondo.  She will be remembered for her engaging smile, her sweet, clear singing voice and her endearing flair for lifting the spirits of everyone around her.

     Shizuko’s husband, Walter, predeceased her.  Shizuko is survived by her two daughters, Patricia and Michelle, four grandchildren, Letitia, LeAndra, Izumi and Seiji and two great-grandchildren, Bronson and Ealie.

       (By Michelle Johnson Hansen)

The Cat’s Out of the Bag

      Hemi the Cat came to visit us a while back.  He’s a senior citizen now, having existed more than a dozen years. 

     He has renal problems.  He’s supposed to eat a high-powered cat food available only from his vet, but he doesn’t seem to care much for it.  The result is he has lost a lot weight from his halcyon days.

     He has slowed down some, is quite willing to lounge in your lap for as long as you’re willing to let him.  He still wants to play hide and seek, especially late at night or early in the morning.  Then he is content to spend the rest of the day napping or visiting the sand box.  He drinks a lot of water.

     However, he still enjoys finding ways to annoy.  This trip, he discovered the joys of the step cabinet.  The step cabinet is somewhat of a Japanese antique.  It is a quite versatile piece of furniture.  Apparently, in the olden days, it did double duty as a stairway to the loft as well as a place to store stuff.

      It comes in three pieces, which can be arranged in various ways.  Besides a stairway, it can also be arranged as it is here, as a regular cabinet.  Here it doubles as the entertainment center, meaning for us, it holds the TV and the video player.

       Because it can be configured different ways, it has another unique feature:  the doors and drawers are the same on both sides.  The drawers can be slid out or removed from either side, with identical handles on either side.  What you see on this side is also what you see on the other side.

     Hemi learned early in life how to open doors.  If you linger in bed beyond 6:30 or so, you will hear him meowing and sticking his forepaw under the bedroom door, trying to get it open.  The door is closed and latched because if you don’t do that, he will be on the bed with you during the night.  That would be okay, too, except he can’t hold still.  He has to try continually to make his nest more comfortable, which means you will have a fuzzy tail or a purring nose in your face when you are trying to sleep.

      Hemi discovered the ring handles on the step cabinet.  He can hook the handle, pull it out and let it fall back, making a clinking sound, not unlike the grandkids when they were still in their crawling stage.  He could actually pull a couple of the lighter drawers out.  Unlike the grandkids, he didn’t remove the contents of the drawer and scatter them all over the floor.

      So far, so good.  Another thing Hemi likes to do is crinkle paper.  He likes to march in place on paper, newspaper, book, magazine, loose leafs, it doesn’t matter.  He likes the sound of the crinkling paper.  The hinged door provided a double treat form him.

      Inside are goodies wrapped in cellophane (an old word for you) that make a lot of noise when it is handled (or walked on) like crinkling paper.  The space probably has a smell from the various kinds of seaweed and other goodies.  Hemi found his way into that part of the cabinet.  When we blocked the front door, he went between the wall and the back side of the cabinet and got into the cabinet from that side.

      A piece of foam jammed between wall and cabinet cut off his access.  We managed to pass the rest of the week in peaceful coexistence.  

     Hemi was successfully captured and sent home.  He hates riding in a car.  If he thinks a car ride is imminent, he will hide.  In previous visits, we have spent a lot of time trying to find him when it came time to go home.  We have learned to lock him in the bathroom while we load his litter box and his food supply.  Such actions tip him off that a car ride is on the agenda.

     We have readjusted to life without a pet.  We don’t miss cleaning the litter box or trying to rid ourselves of black hair from clothes and seat cushions. 

     We do miss being greeted first thing in the morning with a chorus of meows, the flopping down on the floor in front of us, the demand to have belly and ears scratched.  We miss having a warm lap companion while sitting in front of computer or TV.

     Viva Hemi.