Japan did not stay still long enough to become the trip we had planned.
We carried stuffed animals onto crowded buses. We ate noodles from convenience stores. We waited for rides that broke down and squeezed through aquariums, museums, parks, temples, and train stations with children in tow. Sometimes the most important part of the day happened after the attraction closed, when everyone was tired and there was nowhere left to go.
There were beautiful places. There were difficult days. There were moments when one of the kids fell asleep against us, or a quiet room suddenly became the only place we wanted to be. We came looking for Japan and kept finding our family.
We reached Ueno Zoo an hour before it opened.
It felt like we were already late.
A line—mostly of older women—stretched from the entrance and wrapped through a maze of green safety cones.
Staff members kept extending the switchbacks as more people arrived.…
The museum opened with a room-sized panorama of Hiroshima in 1942, followed by another taken from the same vantage point three years later.
Before and after in stark comparison.
My son noticed it at once.
“It’s all broken.”
~
A model of Hiroshima sat in the middle of the second room.…
We’d been traveling for twelve hours: a trolley to Hiroshima Station, a bullet train to Tokyo, then a subway toward the airport.
We arrived in Tokyo just one minute late.
A single minute.
The conductor apologized.
~
Tokyo Station seemed to stretch for blocks beneath the city.…
The subway had left us at the edge of the Royal Castle Park.
We followed the other people along a path, then stopped at the first opening.
“Is this the way?”
Dani checked the map on her phone.
“No.”
We walked farther.…
Avery rolled out of bed in the middle of the night.
The crash woke me, followed by the soft cry of startlement.
I scooped him into my arms, pulling him into bed with me.
He settled against my chest almost immediately.…
Tokyo Disneyland smelled like curry popcorn.
I stepped off the train, saw the Mickey-ear headbands, the crowds, the castle, and something inside me sagged.
Dani looked over.
“You look miserable.”
I kept walking.
“No I don’t.”
“Whatever.”
She took the boys’ hands and headed toward the gates.…
My suitcase rattled over the sidewalk, bumping against my heels as I dragged it toward 7-Eleven.
A pedestrian stepped aside.
Then another.
I looked down at the giant blue case.
“Hopefully, this is the last time.”
Two weeks of Japan were packed inside it: four smaller bags, clothes, and souvenirs, all crammed into the largest suitcase we could check on an airplane.…
Around five, I slipped across to 7-Eleven for dinner.
I couldn’t believe the choices.
Far from the gas-station convenience stores I expected, refrigerators held rows of neatly prepared meals.
I chose noodles for the kids—thick noodles in a salty broth.
For myself, rice topped with sliced beef, sprouted barley, and a soft-boiled egg.…
Once the kids were down, the wrappers from their convenience store noodles scattered across the table, Dani and I agreed I’d go fetch us dinner.
She’d found a nearby sushi place with options she could eat and sent me out with a small smile that says this will be nice for both of us.…
We’d escaped the Ueno Natural History Museum with four stuffed animals, two for each kid, clutched with reverence as we squeezed onto the crowded bus at Ueno Park.
Onboard, the four of us became separated by the shuffle of bodies.
Dani found a seat on one side, Avery curling into her lap.…
“No strollers allowed.”
The attendant said pointed to a giant escalator.
I couldn’t see the top.
Next to it sat a model of the aquarium, a single passage completing a corkscrew through seven floors of exhibits.
It was our second day in Osaka, and we’d arrived when the aquarium opened.…
We’d tried carousel earlier, standing in line while the sky alternated sun and showers.
The ride operator clapping his hands as loud as possible through every song, his face a comical smile.
When we made it to the horses, the ride had broken.…
