A Journey of Two Mothers

My trip to Korea was already emotional, but there was another purpose to this journey that made it even heavier. I had planned to spend one week in Korea with my biological family and then travel to Tokyo. I was bringing my Japanese mother’s ashes with me so I could release her in Japan. It was something I had carried in my heart for a long time, and I wanted to do it the right way.

But the trip did not go smoothly from the beginning.

On our way to Korea, during our connecting flight, our plane malfunctioned in Minnesota. Instead of continuing our journey, we ended up stuck there for a couple of days with no luggage. It was me, my husband, and our two younger girls. Then a huge snowstorm hit, making everything even more difficult. We were told our luggage would be forwarded to Korea, so we waited, hoping for the best.

When we finally arrived in Korea, we were exhausted but ready to focus on the important things. Except our luggage never showed up. No one knew where it was. No one had answers. And in that luggage were not just clothes or toiletries. My Japanese mother’s ashes were inside. The entire purpose of going to Japan depended on something that seemed to be lost.

But I refused to let it ruin our trip. We rented an Airbnb, and the owners were kind enough to wash the clothes we had been wearing. We had one outfit each for an entire week. It was inconvenient, sure, but I didn’t care. I was in Korea. I was with my biological family. The emotions were real, and the clothes didn’t matter.

What mattered was my mother’s ashes.

The week in Korea went by, and we still had not received our luggage. Then it was time to leave for Japan. I accepted that maybe the ashes were gone and tried to focus on the reason we were there. I wanted to release her somewhere meaningful, somewhere beautiful, somewhere connected to her roots.

Then something unexpected happened.

As we were heading to the airport to fly to Japan, our luggage finally arrived. Out of nowhere. After days of having no idea where it was. After worrying that the ashes might be lost forever. There it was, waiting for us. Another blessing. Another reminder that things have a way of working out even when it feels impossible.

In Tokyo, we went to the Rainbow Bridge near the Statue of Liberty replica. I held my Japanese mother’s ashes and released her there. The moment was peaceful. Emotional. Healing. I felt like I had done right by her.

Later, when I told my sister where I released our mother, she shared her own story. She and her son released their portion of our mom’s ashes in Mexico. And when they released her, they looked up and saw a rainbow. They had no idea where I had released mine. And I had no idea what they had seen until that moment.

Two different countries.

Two different releases.

Two rainbows.

When she told me that, I got chills. It felt like a sign. A connection. A moment where everything came together in a way none of us could have planned.

This chapter of my life was about both of my mothers.

The one who gave birth to me.

And the one who raised me.

It was emotional.

It was chaotic.

It was healing.

And it was full of moments that I will never forget.