kimuras that once lived together are now split apart. norio and his daughter live in nagano, five hours away from his mother, tomoe. ramped room furniotographs. the kimuras, like many japanese, have a strong connection to their dead and feel obliged to help them be at peace. as long as the dead are in limbo, so are the living. you've lost so much of your family, why aren't you together with your son now? >> tomoe kimura ( translated ): i'm with my husband's ashes now. once i find a proper place to put him, i'd like to go to nagano. >> simon: what do you think the right place will be? >> tomoe kimura: our family cemetery in okuma is contaminated with radiation now. i could come back two or three times a year to burn incense for him, but my grandchild would not be able to come. i don't want to keep him where his grandchild, whom he used to adore so much, can't even come to visit. >> simon: ten times a year norio kimura visits his ancestors in the family cemetery, a place where he thought he would be laid to rest one day and where his children would come to visit him. but he won't find any peace, he says, until after h