A funeral

Last Saturday, I attended my first funeral in Japan. My friend's mother passed away after a long illness. I had never met her but funerals are as much for those left behind as for the deceased. My friend was relieved that she didn't have to worry about her mother any more, happy that her mother was with her dad again after 20 years, but of course sad because she will miss her mom. So I am both happy and sad for her.

Most funerals in Japan are Buddhist, but this one was Shinto. Japanese funerals are everything you could hope for in a funeral: respectful and proper.

I was able to find out what is expected of attendees from my friend, online and one of the teachers at school. Guests bring money in an special envelope, and receive a gift in return. It includes salt to sprinkle on yourself when you come home from a funeral. From what I've seen it's for purification and/or to scare away spirits that follow people home from funerals.

In the US, wearing black is not necessary at funerals anymore. In Japan, it's an absolute necessity. Women wear all black, including black hose. Mean wear a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. (You can tell if a man in a black suit is going to a funeral or a wedding by the tie: black for funeral, white for wedding.)

I was the only woman not wearing a jacket, but I was wearing a black cardigan over a black turtleneck with a black skirt and hose. Pearls are the only jewelry that is proper. I didn't have a pearl necklace, but I wore pearl earrings. Earrings aren't technically correct, I don't think. But most Japanese women don't have pierced ears and some folks don't like the look of empty ear piercings. Very small pearl earrings were my compromise.

The funeral was held at a ceremony hall. There was the room that the actual funeral took place in, and an overflow room which had a large screen TV on the wall. That's where I sat. I kind of like the idea. Everyone can see well. And if, for whatever reason, you end up with a sparsely attended funeral, the smaller main room would still look full.

My friend's mother filled both rooms. Like I said earlier, I never met her. But the fact that she raised my friend to be the good and kind person she is, speaks volumes about her character. All of it good. And, yes, I cried.