When I first arrived in Japan more than 40 years ago, one of the first words I learned was sayonara and that it meant "goodbye." As I stayed on, I began to learn that sayonara did not mean goodbye in the sense of "till we meet again" or "God watch over you" as such phrases are used in the West. The literal meaning of sayonara is "if that's the way it is" with a little implication of sorrow and the unspoken hope that if things must be different, perhaps there will be other pleasures somewhere, some time, in another future.

That, I think, is how I want to say goodbye. I have been writing this column for 36 years. It began as an attempt to be useful to foreigners living in Japan, helping them with the where's of procurement, the why's of behavior and the how's of getting things done in an unfamiliar environment and with a different language. I have made many friends I have never met, Americans, other foreigners and Japanese. I've written a few books, expanding on the kind of information I try to provide in my column. I have had some heart-warming successes in helping people to solve problems, to form support groups, to adjust to Japanese customs. There have been some failures. I have come to learn that our humanity, with all the opportunities it offers for good and evil, is what we share and must make the most of.

I have had the luxury of writing from the wonderful platform of The Japan Times, Japan's oldest and unquestionably best English-language daily, whose mission from its inception has been to present and explain Japan to the outside world. It has supported my efforts with fidelity and good humor. I have been blessed with editors and readers who have made my work a pleasure to perform. And Japan has made it possible to have an added benefit -- the possibility of a glimpse of cherry blossoms or wisteria, a trip into the realm of the past at a village festival, the unexpected sight of Mount Fuji at twilight, even through the haze of a busy city.

Now, for me, the time has come to bring an end to my work here. People can find answers to their questions and solutions to their problems faster on the Internet than they can by waiting for a response from Jean Pearce in a stamped, self-addressed envelope. Huge shopping complexes all over the country provide easy access to needed products. More and more foreigners living in Japan are fluent Japanese speakers -- perhaps a thousand times more than there were when I first arrived. There has been a similar increase in the number of Japanese, educated abroad, who are involved in cross-cultural communication. The population is sophisticated, polyglot and efficient. I don't mourn the loss of the old days. A little nostalgia from time to time, but no sadness -- that's the way it is.

When I returned from the U.S. July 2, I found a tremendous number of letters, faxes and e-mail messages from readers wishing me happiness in my new life and expressing in many ways their appreciation of my columns, often quoting from them or recalling favorites. I was deeply touched by this great expression of appreciation, of love. It is the response that I have received from my readers that has made my work so fulfilling for so many years. And here I must say that I cannot find the words to tell you how much this will always mean to me.

Please don't feel unhappy about my departure. I am going to a new life with a person whom I love deeply, one who shares my experience and my appreciation of this country. I want to say, too, that I am gratified by the truly successful relationship that has developed between Japan and the U.S. I hope that in the future, with occasional articles from Washington, I can once again be a part of your lives.

I have rarely spoken personally to you before, choosing to maintain the privacy I much prefer, but you all have been such an important part of my life that I needed, finally, to do so. You will perhaps have noticed that in these last weeks I have rerun a few old columns to give you the feeling of how things used to be. They are also the ones that I like. Maybe part of them will stay for a time . . . if that's the way it is.

Sayonara.

As fitting as that ending is, there is one more thing. My former-diplomat husband Bill Sherman helped me write this final column. Now you can see that I have fallen into good hands.