Articles

With big scary projects, I like to “eat the frog” and do the hard thing first. So when I sat down to fill in the Ending Note, I turned to page 55, the Final Arrangements section. This is the part everyone wants to skip.

Even if you haven’t thought about it much, you probably have an idea of what sort of final arrangements you want. You’ve already been to funerals. You’ve been to memorial services. You know what you liked about them and what felt wrong. 

If you can visualise what a good send-off looks like, then Final Arrangements isn’t death planning, it’s event planning. The event is about you, but you won’t be there to explain what you want. 

So here’s a chance to write down your vision of that grand final party. The Ending Note gives you a framework and you can expand with as much additional detail as you like.

The Final Arrangements section has three main parts:

First, Cultural Considerations – A few short lines for your religious preferences, the style of funeral you want, and where you want to have it – here in Japan, in your home country or anywhere else.

If you’re like me and you’ve lived in Japan for decades but you’re not Japanese, you might have ideas about combining Japanese customs with customs from your home country. Incense offerings at the open-casket wake, perhaps? Towels as gifts to mourners, or maybe anything except towels…

Second, Funeral Service. Do you want one? What size or style?

The Ending Note lists common options: private, family only, traditional, company funeral (that’s a thing in Japan), or direct cremation with no service. Check the box that feels right.

Japanese funerals usually happen within days, but your family might be scattered across countries and time zones. So maybe note how to include them, whether it’s delaying the event until people can travel, or in a modern post-pandemic style, livestreaming the service.

There’s also a place to note funeral costs. If you’ve prepaid anything, write that down here with the contact information. If you want to use your savings, note which account if you set something aside specially. Funerals in Japan can be quite expensive, and that’s explained in the Family Guide, so being clear in this section will help everyone with the financial side of your event.

Third, Burial and Monument.

You’ve got options: Japanese family grave, new grave, eternal memorial, scattering ashes, tree burial… The Ending Note lists many, but not all, possibilities so you can add your own under Other.

And if you have preferences about the monument design, the epitaph, or where you want ashes scattered, there’s space for that too.

If you’re feeling ready to go deeper, on the next page there’s space to add final messages, personal history, and family traditions you hope the next generation will keep up. If you have a lot to share, don’t be shy to add extra pages.

Thinking about our mortality, the brief time we have with the people we love, and what they will feel when we are gone – it’s emotional. I shed a tears when I filled in Final Arrangements.

I know that if it made me cry, then my sister will cry, too. Or she will put on a stoic “Kristen would have wanted this” mask and struggle through figuring out what to do.

So even though I didn’t want to think about my own final arrangements, writing down my wishes now makes the inevitable future more comfortable for family and friends. They will know what I wanted and they can provide it without guessing and without arguing.

So grab your Ending Note, pour a comforting drink, maybe have tissues handy, and fill in pages 55 through 57. You already know what you want – you just need to write it down.

You can change this anytime. It’s written in your handwriting in a workbook, not carved in stone. Cross it out and revise, or reprint the pages and start over fresh.

You’ve got this. Take care.

If you’ve lived here through any December, you’ve encountered Japan’s version of a holiday season that includes adopted Western customs like Black Friday, Christmas cake, illuminations, and fried chicken. They are fun, a little whacky, and optional among your Japanese friends.

The more relevant year-end traditions and celebrations are the ones leading up to the New Year:

• Pay your debts
• Make amends
• Clean house from top to bottom
• Prepare osechi foods
• Send winter gifts
• Write nengajou cards
• Enjoy bonenkai parties

I propose adding one to this list for 2025 and beyond:

• Complete (or review) your Ending Note & Conspectus.

Through December, I will be sharing some videos and posts with practical tips on getting different sections done and what to do if the Ending Note doesn’t cover your specific life circumstances.

November in Japan is the season of autumn leaves, harvest festivals, and getting ready for winter. It’s also when many of us around the world reflect on what we’re grateful for, though not necessarily with a feast of turkey on the fourth Thursday like in America.

I’m grateful for some decidedly unglamorous things: my friend who knows where I keep my hanko and bank books. The password manager that stores all my account access details. The conversations I’ve finally had with my family about what I actually want.

These aren’t Instagram-worthy gratitudes, but they’re the foundation that lets me focus on more interesting things – like volunteering at Oyama Senmaida or making art.

Living in Japan has taught me that preparation and mindfulness go hand in hand. You prepare for earthquakes not because you’re paranoid, but because being prepared means you can relax and enjoy daily life without constant worry.

Same principle applies to getting your affairs organized. It’s not about being focussed on death; it’s about clearing that mental space so you can appreciate the good stuff.

I’m also grateful for the people who helped me navigate this: the judicial scrivener who explained Japanese inheritance law, the tax professional who understood expat complications, the friend who shared her own family crisis story.

Getting organized as a foreign resident isn’t something you figure out alone. It takes a village that spans countries and cultures.

What are you grateful for this November? The practical stuff counts too.

“She would have wanted…” is the beginning of every family argument that could have been prevented.

Your family loves you and wants to honor your memory, but they don’t actually know what you want unless you tell them. They’re going to guess based on what they remember you saying, what they think you would have preferred, and what seems right to them.

The problem is that different family members will have different guesses, all of them sincere and well-intentioned.

Your sister remembers you saying you wanted to be cremated. Your brother remembers you saying burial was important. You probably said both things at different times, in different contexts, without thinking about the contradiction.

Your spouse thinks you’d want a celebration of life with music and stories. Your parents think you’d want a traditional religious service. Your best friend thinks you’d want everyone to get drunk and tell embarrassing stories about you.

They’re all trying to do right by you, but they’re working from incomplete information and their own assumptions about what you valued.

The solution is to be explicit about your preferences, even for things that seem obvious or unimportant to you.

“I don’t care; I’ll be dead” is a selfish statement.

Write down what you want. Include whatever details about tone, style, location, participants, and any specific elements that matter to you. Explain your reasoning if it will help your family understand your choices.

My own Ending Note includes a quirky wish: “Although I have long dreamed of becoming someone’s home decor as ashes in an urn, I will be dead, so what can I do if you don’t want that?” I mean I probably won’t haunt anyone if I don’t end up on someone’s mantle.

Now if you genuinely don’t care about certain details, say that too. “I don’t care if it’s burial or cremation, but I do want my service to be upbeat and celebratory” is useful information.

Your final wishes aren’t just about you. They’re about giving your family clear guidance so they can focus on grieving instead of guessing.

Here’s a delicate situation: your Japanese family thinks you should have a Buddhist funeral with traditional protocols. Your overseas family thinks you should have a Christian burial in your hometown. You’re not particularly religious and honestly just want people to remember you fondly.

Who’s right?

Everyone and no one. Different cultures have different ways of honoring the dead, and all of them are valid within their own contexts. The problem is when these different approaches conflict and nobody knows what you actually wanted.

This is especially complicated for foreign residents because your death affects people from multiple cultures who might have very different expectations.

Your Japanese colleagues might expect to attend a formal funeral service. Your family back home might expect to have a memorial service in your hometown. Your international friends in Japan might prefer something more casual and personal.

To be honest, it’s exactly the same way with inter-cultural weddings.

There’s no rule that says you can only have one service or that everyone has to participate in the same rituals. You can have a Buddhist ceremony in Japan and a memorial service back home. You can have formal and informal gatherings. You can accommodate different cultural expectations without forcing anyone to choose.

It’s smart to think about this in advance and communicate your preferences clearly.

Otherwise, well-meaning family members from different cultures will try to do what they think is appropriate, and they might end up stepping on each other’s toes or creating conflicts that reflect cultural misunderstandings rather than genuine disagreements.

Plan for multiple audiences with different expectations. Give people permission to honor you in ways that make sense within their cultural context.

Everyone wins when everyone feels included.

Ben Tanaka sat down with me (well, via Zoom) to launch his new video series “In Conversation” and talk about the Ending Note and my retirement plans. It was a cheerful conversation, despite the Ending Note being a somewhat somber and serious topic.

If you are interested in the Ending Note, I recommend checking out Retire Japan, too. It’s an excellent resource for anyone planning to retire in Japan, currently retired here, or generally investing and saving for the future. Ben’s created myriad YouTube videos, a newsletter, a forum, and also offers personal consultations. https://www.retirejapan.com/

Family conflicts during estate settlement usually aren’t about money. They’re about interpretation.

“Mom always said she wanted a simple funeral” – but what does “simple” mean? No flowers? No reception? Just immediate family? Everyone has a different definition.

“Dad wanted his tools to go to someone who would use them” – but which tools, and which person? There might be three relatives who all work with their hands.

“She always talked about donating to charity” – but which charities, and how much? Vague intentions become specific arguments when there’s actual money involved.

The more specific you are about your wishes, the less room there is for family members to impose their own interpretations or argue about what you “really meant.”

Instead of “I want a simple funeral,” write “I want cremation, no viewing, a small service for immediate family only, followed by a casual reception at home with sandwiches and coffee.”

Instead of “Give my tools to someone who will use them,” write “Give my woodworking tools to my nephew Mike, my car maintenance tools to my neighbor Tom, and donate the rest to the local high school shop class.”

Instead of “Donate to charity,” write “Donate $5,000 to the local animal shelter and $3,000 to the literacy foundation.”

Yes, this level of specificity feels controlling. But it prevents family members from having to guess what you wanted, and it prevents arguments about competing interpretations.

Clear instructions aren’t about controlling people from beyond the grave. They’re about preventing conflicts during a time when your family is already stressed and emotional.

Give them one less thing to argue about.

What happens if your first choice for emergency decision-maker is unreachable when you need them?

Your designated power of attorney might be traveling. Your emergency contact might be sick. Your closest friend might be dealing with their own crisis. Life is unpredictable, and the people you’re counting on might not be available exactly when you need them.

This is why you need backup plans for your backup plans.

Think about it like a chain of command: if person A can’t be reached, contact person B. If person B is unavailable, contact person C. Include contact information for each person and specific instructions about what each person is authorized to do.

If this sounds familiar, then you might be a member of your local kumiai in Japan – the group that shares responsibility for the common areas in the neighborhood.

Make sure each person on your list knows they’re on the list and knows who comes before and after them. Nobody should be surprised to get a call asking them to make important decisions on your behalf.

(For introverts like me who don’t like asking for help, this is a roadblock. There will be a separate post about this.)

Also think about different types of emergencies. The person who’s best for making short-term medical decisions might not be the best person for handling long-term financial management. The person who can drop everything to help in a crisis might not be the person you want managing your affairs for months.

Have different hierarchies for different situations, and make sure everyone understands their role. You might want to make different versions of the Emergency Access Guide to fit your hierarchies.

Of course you will ensure at least one person on each list is in Japan and can navigate Japanese systems. Having all your emergency contacts overseas doesn’t help if the emergency requires someone who can physically go to a Japanese bank or hospital.

Geography matters when you need someone to take action on your behalf.

Power of attorney sounds scary and formal, but it’s really just a legal document that says “this person can make decisions for me when I can’t make them myself.”

There are different types:

Financial power of attorney 財務代理権 lets someone manage your money, pay your bills, and handle business transactions. This is useful if you’re traveling, hospitalized, or otherwise unable to manage your finances temporarily.

Medical power of attorney 医療代理権 lets someone make healthcare decisions if you’re unconscious or otherwise unable to communicate your preferences.

General power of attorney 一般委任状 covers everything. This can be a limited power of attorney that covers only specific situations or time periods.

The key thing to understand is that power of attorney only works while you’re alive. Once you die, these documents become invalid and control transfers to your estate executor or next of kin according to your will and local law.

Also, power of attorney documents from your home country might not be valid in Japan, and Japanese power of attorney documents might not be valid in your home country. If you have assets in multiple countries, you might need multiple documents.

This is why you need to talk to actual lawyers who understand international estate planning, not just get forms off the Internet.

But the basic principle is simple: decide who you trust to make decisions for you, figure out what decisions they might need to make, and create legal documents that give them the authority to do so.

It’s like giving someone a spare key to your house, except the key unlocks your financial and medical decisions instead of your front door.

Here’s a question that sounds simple but isn’t: if you can’t make decisions for yourself, who should make them for you?

In an ideal world, you’d have one trusted person who understands your values, knows your preferences, and has the legal authority to act on your behalf. In the real world, it’s more complicated.

Maybe your closest family member lives overseas and can’t realistically manage day-to-day decisions in Japan. Maybe your closest friend in Japan isn’t comfortable making major financial or medical decisions. Maybe the person you trust most isn’t the person who’s best equipped to handle bureaucracy.

This is why power of attorney documents exist – they let you designate specific people for specific types of decisions. You can have one person handle medical decisions and another handle financial decisions. You can have primary and backup decision-makers.

But you have to think through who should handle what, and you have to make sure the people you’re designating actually want the responsibility and understand what it involves.

Don’t just pick someone because they’re geographically convenient or because you think you should. Pick someone because they’re actually the right person for the job.

And definitely don’t assume that legal family relationships automatically translate to decision-making authority in Japan. Japanese law might not recognize your overseas spouse’s authority to make medical decisions, or your adult children’s right to access your bank accounts.

If you want specific people to have specific authority, you need to document that formally and legally.

Otherwise, someone else will be making those decisions, and it might not be someone you would have chosen.