HIGASHI-MATSUSHIMA, Japan — It was neither the place nor the time for a proper goodbye: not here, on a homely hilltop that used to house the city garbage incinerator. And not now, fully 12 days after a tsunami erased this town’s seacoast and forever sundered hundreds of families and friendships. Yet on this raw, wind-whipped Wednesday afternoon, Fujimi and Ekuko Kimura watched as a procession of soldiers unloaded the coffin of Taishi Kimura, husband and son, from the back of an army transport truck, and laid it with 35 others in a narrow trench, partitioned into graves with pieces of plywood. It was the rudest of funerals for a family already shouldering unbearable grief. It fell to the…
Excerpt from:
Nontraditional goodbyes in Japan