Today’s episode continues our international journey to the Far East just south of Tokyo. We took a leap of faith and hope that a move to a new job for Tanner would be a great move and would allow us to experience another culture and lifestyle while our time overseas was limited. Little did we know that move would only last 12 months before we were turning around to return to Europe. We dive into why we moved to Japan, why we decided to move to Italy, and the progression of emotions and experiences we had while in the Land of the Rising Sun.
Overall, we loved Japan and it was a great experience. Was it hard making two across-the-world moves within 13 months, absolutely!
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Tanner, Risa, Willa + Noa
16 Comments
sorry, but what are your jobs?
Risa, when is it time for you to pursue a career?
Loved this episode (which is keeping me company in this cold and rainy day when i have to do a lot of ironing at home 😂), because it remembers me of the first big trip my son, in 2017. It was fantastic, my two years old blond (almost white-haired) little boy with blue eyes was catching so much attention. From gigantic skyscrapers and bullet trains to very old temples or relaxing nature, it was like stepping into another world. I would say it was the best trip of my life (although national parks in the usa is rather close). I really appreciate to see your insights about actually living there, and you are absolutely right about the attitude that you put into things, how it changes the outcome. Btw, yes i also miss so much my heated toilet 😀. During easter i'll travel to south korea, and i just re-watched your videos about it. Thank you guys, a big hug, i hope you'll have a wonderful week ahead!
Hahaha I love your idea of mixing the "perfect supermarket" together, I even agree with your choice. Would starve without my German bread and cakes, but Italian pasta and Japanese seafood, yeah! May I add a bit of the grilled meat varieties from the Balkan? Here we go!
Edit because of typos.
Wait, you were in Germany for 3 years and in Japan for 1 year? If you have to return after 5 years, that means you can only stay in Italy for 1 year.
Guys, what a great episode! I've lived in the US for three years, even that was a culture shock for me. My dad had a work assignment, so the whole family packed up. I really like the way you represent your live experiences. Keep it up, looking forward to it!
I’ve seen Japanese bathrooms in YouTube videos and I find them amazing, and I’d love to have one of those clothes drying appliance above the shower or bathtub.
However for some of those toilets I think an engineering degree might be in order 🤭
For walking a lot in Japan I think Germany resp Europe was a good conditioning for you.
I’m sure that a lot of consideration, thought, discussion went into your decision to move back to Europe after such a relative short time in Japan.
Ultimately I think it’s better for Willa, there’s simply less difference between Italian and English than between Japanese and English, it will make for an easier adjustment to switching schools once you move back to the USA.
I think it’s a bit sad though, the way you mention your religious deconstruction.
I feel no Christian religion should be so fundamentally different, so separate from others, to make small adjustments painful, like drinking coffee or tea, to keep you from wearing what you feel comfortable in when the required garments make it impossible.
And I fear that there might be more pain ahead of you and your family who remain stout LDS members. I hope I’m wrong in this.
Hi from Germany! Have been following your journey in life since your preparations for moving to Germany. Considering Tokyo my second home (visiting my in-laws there every year) I could relate to your relocation to Japan as well. Thank you for sharing your developments in personal life openly. I am sure this could help many people in their critical thinking.
Re: Willa loving Ramen: Did you know that little German kids actually snack on Top Ramen, uncooked, as a snack? It's so cool cuz I'd have done it too as a kid. A pack of Top Ramen is 59 cents. A Milka bar is over a Euro. But I want a salty, crunchy snack with MSG! I'm ashamed to say I have two packs of Top Ramen in my cupboard right now, and I'm planning on throwing in some broccoli and peas and shri racha and roasted sesame oil to make myself a rameny feast: )
This has turned out to be a long comment, filled with family deaths following family visits. It may be hard for some of you to read, which is why I am writing this. Just know that, with time, the love and fulfillment of those visits far outweigh the grief and the separation. While I have experienced that the grief never disappears, the love and connection of those visits continually bless me.
My mother died of lung cancer while I was living in Germany. I had been blessed to have had an extended visit with my parents about three months before she died and of course we knew when I left that it would be the last time we would meet. As I was leaving, my mother grasped my face in her two hands and fiercely exclaimed, “Oh! How I love you, child!” Every time I think of those words, I cry, just like now, but they live in my heart like a flame. I was unable to attend her funeral, which was shattering.
Thanks to my German “father-in-law” (I was in a relationship with his youngest daughter. I am bisexual and bi-emotional. She left me for another woman, but her parents and siblings always considered me a cherished family member. With time, we also grew to appreciate and love my ex’s new partner.), I was able to visit with my father about a month before he died unexpectedly from a stroke. My brother had sent photos of a fishing trip he had made with my father and naturally I shared them with my German in-laws. My father-in-law took one look at a happy photo of my father proudly displaying a fish he had caught and exclaimed, “This man is not going to live much longer. You MUST visit with him now!” And he paid for my travel to California. Following my father’s death, he also paid for me to attend my father’s funeral knowing how painful it had been for me to not attend my mother’s funeral. My father-in-law was approximately 15 years older than my father and he lived for another eight years. I loved him as profoundly as I loved my own father!
Then the first summer after I married my Swedish husband (we’ve been married for 28 years now!), my brother, his wife, their daughter and their daughter’s 13 month old son came to visit us for a typical American SEVEN DAYS of vacation. I had already been living in Northern Germany for 10 years and it was the first time any of my family had visited me in Europe. It was a visit filled with joy and love, but when we left them at the airport and watched as they walked into customs and out of sight, I felt a terrible, unreasonable unease. Several hours later we got a phone call telling us that on their drive home from the airport, their car had been sideswiped and my sister-in-law (who had essentially been a family member since she and my brother were 15) had died instantly and it was unknown if my brother would survive. My niece had a broken shoulder and her son (Thank God!) suffered only bruises from his car chair seat belts.
It was June. When it was clear that my brother would survive but would require months of out-patient hospital care, my sister and her husband who lived in Wyoming, made an arrangement with my husband and I. They packed up their four children and came to spend the summer in California. In late August, my husband and I traveled from Sweden, overlapping our visits so that we could all meet, then my sister and her family returned to Wyoming for the school year and my husband and I stayed through November. My sister’s husband had his own business, which allowed him this long absence from work and my husband was a consultant, so he was also able to take the time and I had not yet begun to work in Sweden. During those months my brother and my husband built a deep and loving relationship and they genuinely feel as though they are brothers. Their relationship is truly heartwarming!
In 2006 my husband and I made our last visit to the States. We spent six weeks, during which time my brother, his new wife (a wonderful human being and perfect wife and partner to my brother — just like his first wife of 23 years) and my husband and I traveled from California to Wyoming to visit with our sister and her family. A cherished memory. Six weeks after my husband and I had returned to Sweden, my sister and her husband died in a motorcycle accident.
Seven months ago we moved into a new, fantastic Elder Adapted apartment in a new city. A month later my husband suffered a stroke. (It is currently January, 2026. He is 79. I am 76) He survived, but fell immediately into dementia and has now been living in a facility for elderly dementia patients because my own physical health prevents me from caring for his physical needs. He no longer remembers this apartment where he only lived for a month.
About two months after he had moved, a sore on his right leg was diagnosed with gangrene and his leg was amputated above his knee. Since his amputation he has become clearer. The doctor’s believe that he must have been in considerable pain for many months prior to his stroke. When I asked him why he hadn’t said that he was in pain, he broke down crying and said that “it isn’t manly”! A statement that broke my heart. I should say that my husband had always been an excellent athlete. Out of high school he was even approached by big league Swedish hockey teams to join them. He turned them down, joking later that he wanted to keep his teeth. He also served as a Major in the Swedish military for 25 years. It was his natural state to be physically fit and he had been taught through sports and the military to ignore physical pain and to minimize injury. 😤🤬😠😢
He now recognizes me whenever I visit and sometimes I can take him with me on drives around town. We really enjoyed viewing the Christmas lights a few weeks ago. I am looking forward to summer picnics (in the car because neither of us can manage on our own to get him in and out of his wheelchair from the car seat) beside one of the beautiful Swedish lakes in our area. We are enormously blessed in that the facility where he lives is quite literally a three minute drive away from my apartment and I am welcome to drop by for a visit at any time — no rigid visiting hours. The personnel are well-trained, respectful, kind, responsive and have great senses of humor. They clearly like their patients! For our anniversary in November they permitted me to bring one of those small bottles of champagne, which they divided into two wine glasses so we could toast each other. When I took up cake for his birthday in early December, first they put candles on it and we all sang happy birthday, then they served the cake to all of the patients (I made sure to bring enough for everyone) and themselves on fine china with coffee served in fine china coffee cups!
I celebrate that he is alive! I can hug him, kiss him and hold hands with him. We share long rambling conversations, frequently on rather odd and wildly changing topics, but I just “go with the flow”.
It is a loss. I miss cuddling with him in bed and have become closer to my pillows, which I hug to fall asleep. I miss raising my eyes from my book to smile at him across the living room. I miss his computer tech support. I miss him pushing me in my wheelchair around the grocery store pretending to bicker about food choices. I miss him shouting in jubilation or disgust while watching sporting events such as skiing, sailing or ice hockey — all of which he was excellent at. (I don’t watch those things myself, but I enjoyed experiencing his reactions.) I miss our conversations about “God and the world”.
And this absence often makes my heart clench in fear because it constantly forces me to confront the knowledge that our separation is inevitably going to become permanent and it is more likely that his death will occur before mine. He has even raised this topic himself recently.
So these days I cry unexpectedly. Both from small joys and sudden fears.
And I carefully, mindfully take note of every miracle life presents.
I hear a baby laugh. A child smiles at me. A stranger asks me if they can help me get my groceries to my car. The snowflakes just today were large and delicate and fell gently. The snow is piled high and I NEVER HAVE TO SHOVEL IT! I lay in bed until 11:00 today reading.
My sister-in-law called this evening “just because”.
My brother sent me a silly e-mail about our parents and my best friend since we were eight, e-mailed me a photo of her latest painting.
My heart knows that life blesses me.
You were talking about religious deconstructing remind of when Stacey Dooley in the UK had a sleepover with LDS Family. You can see her perspective of this religion. I think you might find the episode very interesting. Meet The British Mormons | Stacey Dooley Sleeps Over. This is the link: https://youtu.be/Ow1XtTEhBaI?si=OLMnmevKFnj_M9r9
Poor or rich, even with $282K monthly I'm not satisfied because everything is money and more of it comes more problem But your video genuinely brought a smile to my face. Thank you for that.
Really enjoyed hearing about Japan, such a wonderful experience for your family. I think it was your move to Japan that really interested me as a regular follower to your story. I did follow you in Germany too and now enjoying Italy. I love it all😂
I really admire you and your family, your energy to keep learning, growing together and sharing your story with us. ❤❤❤❤
They were in Japan for less than a year but they seemed to travel a lot and have a lot of time off.