It’s moving day and a typhoon is baring down on Tokyo. Already the wind is blowing the rain sideways. I only know about the typhoon because of the email cascade from school- I can’t understand the news.

Two ancient Japanese men and one woman stand outside my apartment door- our precious 1400 lbs from home on the doorstep. I’m especially glad to see it. The instructions to obtain unaccompanied baggage forms to be stamped at customs upon our arrival came via email 3 days after we landed. No customs forms -no shipment. Alas- a loophole- one apology letter later and a promise of duty to be paid and the shipment is released and on our doorstep.

Each item box has been weighed and categorized for tracking and customs declaration. Each box has been packed carefully for load management on an airplane. Each item has been carefully evaluated as to it’s necessity for the trip to Japan- storage space is non existent.

I unpack to the screeching of wind. I’m exhausted. I’ve listened to the cable man explain how to use 3 clickers all in Japanese, the concierge explain how to set the Japanese water heater, the Japanese dishwasher, washing machine, dryer, and security system. My brain is numb.

I open the last box! Is it all here? My jewelry? The silver? Clothes- shoes- knives- Wendy Shorman’s softball bat- What!!! Off spring number 1’s classmate Wendy Shorman? I’m so glad that Wendy’s sball bat made it- now- how did we get it in the first place.