Before his first day of training, Michael and I briefly scouted Shinagawa . The moment we entered the station it felt familiar to me. I wanted to slow down and try to retrieve the memory file from my head. But, knowing we were on a mission, I waited for the right time to ask if we could stop for a snap. We proceeded forward and located the building in which he would train the next day.
On the way back I stopped at the spot I had found oddly familiar. This time I asked, "Baby, can we stop? I want to take a picture of this."
Slowly, a dim memory came into focus and I realized it was almost exactly the same image I had seen a decade ago. In my mind's eye, I saw my son Michael sporting his khaki cargo pants, brown/orange long sleeve polo, and his brown suede hiking shoes. He was smiling beneath that perfect, thick, dark-brown hair. I'm not sure if he would remember this very spot if he were to go there again, but it was a nice treat for me.
The following day my husband had to spend 6 hours in training. During this time I had nothing to do, so I re-visited the Shinagawa train station while he trained. I've never read my camera manual until that day, never watched people so much, and I've never walked so slowly through each and every department store that caught my eye. I savored all that this massive train station had to offer and I thoroughly enjoyed changing the settings in my camera to my liking without feeling hurried. However, I wished I had brought my tripod.
I was willing to eat every offering from every bakery but didn't because...money and my figure.
I wandered along a few sketchy alleys, but this is Japan. So, with no reservation, I freely slung that camera over my shoulder like a rifle and went hunting for potentially good images.
Regarding the previous image: In hindsight, I should have gone into this place and asked someone to enlighten me about the word "highball". I honestly had no idea what it was, at the time.
Because this is Japan, both big and small raindrops are to be expected at any moment. Nonetheless, with an umbrella in one hand and camera in the other, I continued to walk up and down any street I dared to explore.
Six hours later I took Michael to this place I had found during my travels and we had our first Japanese Shabu-Shabu together.
......and we ate happily ever after.
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