Peter Weld
It was summer of 2021 when Springboard Japan asked me, Peter Weld, to take photos of Mark, to illustrate the piece he was writing for the site. I introduced myself to him over Zoom, we agreed on a day and time, and in late September we spent a day traveling to various spots in Tokyo, including Shibuya, the Tokyo University campus in Komaba, and the area in which he lived, Odaiba.
The following spring, with cherry blossoms coming out everywhere, we got together for more photos, this time at the main Tokyo University campus, and later in the year we had a relaxing visit with Professor Sachi Schmidt-Hori, who had put us in touch in the first place. I also spent a day doing behind-the-scenes photos while the documentary about Mark was being filmed, and on December 10 we went to Shibuya again and to the foot of Tokyo Tower to get publicity stills for the documentary. Less than a week after that Tokyo Tower excursion, he was gone.
Whenever I contacted him about getting together for photos, the answer was always along the lines of, “Sure. When would be good for you?” Sometimes we had to reschedule a shoot because the weather forecast looked ominous, but never did he say, “I’m too busy” or, “I don’t quite feel up to it.” He was always ready for anything, despite the obstacles that he faced.
On the day that I spent with the documentary crew, when all the shooting was over, we settled around a table at a small eatery near Shimbashi Station. When our food arrived, I couldn’t help but notice how Mark ate: his right hand held his chopsticks while his left hand supported his right hand. His muscles had weakened to the point where this was the only way to do it.
I’m typing these words on a cold evening in January. I’ve been outside for much of the day, and when I came inside, my hands were extremely cold. I sat down to dinner, picked up my chopsticks, and found I could barely use them because my hands were almost numb. I thought back to watching Mark struggle with his chopsticks. That was his reality not just in winter but in spring, summer, and fall, too.
I remember his telling me that the first time he came to Japan, he had still been able to walk. The second time, he had been in a wheelchair. The third time, he’d been in a wheelchair and had needed full-time care-givers. The fourth time, he’d been in a wheelchair, had needed full-time care-givers, and had had to sleep with a ventilator. He harbored no delusions about the direction in which his physical condition was headed, and he joked about not being too worried about the specifics of Japan’s pension system because he didn’t expect to live long enough to receive a pension.
Mark possessed a natural optimism and a determination to make the very most of the limited time that he had. I learned a lot from talking to him and a lot more simply from being around him and observing the grace with which he accepted his situation. I wish I had met him much sooner and had known him much longer.