I’m recording this with just one week left of my long, unexpected stay here in Japan. It feels surreal to think that in just a few days, I’ll be back in Canada, finally ending what has felt like an indefinite pause on my usual life.

As of today, I have everything I need to go back. All the paperwork, the approvals, the plans—they’re all finally in place. But the last few weeks here have been, in many ways, unlike any time I’ve spent in Japan before. For one thing, I’m realizing I’ve done just about everything I could think of, and my budget for anything extra is officially gone!

And oddly enough, I’m even a little tired of eating the high-quality Japanese food I once craved so much. It’s strange to say that out loud! Back in Canada, I’d spend so much more on food that doesn’t come close to this standard, and yet… I think I’ve reached my fill.

But that’s not the only feeling I’m sitting with. I’ve spent the last few weeks not really knowing if I’d be able to return to Canada at all. There was this uncertain period where I had to be ready for any outcome—even the possibility of staying here for several more months. I had prepared myself, at least mentally, for that. And now, as I’m about to go back, it’s almost strange that everything is falling back into place.

There’s a part of me that feels relieved and secure, knowing I’ll be returning to my regular job and daily routine. But at the same time, there’s a slight disappointment in knowing that I’ll be back to working for the same company, picking up right where I left off. I think I may have been a little too ready to accept any new direction that came my way.

Another thing on my mind is the journey I’ve been on during this extended stay here. I haven’t quite had the time to sit down and summarize it, to make sense of all the thoughts and moments that came up during my time here. I need to make a plan, too, for what comes next. But right now, my mind is preoccupied with something else.

Just a few minutes ago, something unexpected happened—I ran into an old classmate from junior high. I stopped by a café, and there he was, standing behind the counter. I learned that one of our classmates recently passed away, someone we had shared so many memories with. Tonight, there will be a funeral. It’s hard to process that such a young person, someone in their 30s, has been through such a challenging time with their family, fighting a disease that ultimately took their life. I’ll be going to the funeral tonight to say goodbye.

And that’s not the only farewell I’m preparing for. I’ve been spending a lot of time with my grandmother, who’s in the hospital. Her health is fragile now; she hardly speaks or wakes up much these days. Being with her has stirred a lot of emotions, and I can’t help but think these could be my last moments with her.

It’s a strange blend of feelings: the relief of returning to Canada, the sorrow of saying goodbye to old friends and family, and the sense of a chapter closing. This time in Japan has turned out to be so much more than a "visit" or a “vacation”—it’s been a time of reflection, of farewells, and of recognizing the passage of time in a very real way.