As children, my sons kept holding my hand tightly
and following me, so that I would not lose my children. When I went to see my
younger son who lived in Japan last time, I snooped around in Japan without
letting go of his hand as my son tried to when he was a child. Then I stayed in
the place where he lives for a week. Just imagination is the joy of being in
same space with my beloved son.
He lived on a mountaintop with a river on
either side in the country. He lived like a Buddhist monk who lived in a place
under the sky where he could take a star, the sound of insects. There was nothing but
sunshine all day in the south living room. The bedroom that is a tatami was
covered with a thick mattress. He put another one up as if I were to come.
"Mom, are you crying?" "How come
you are lonely alone in a mountain like this?" "Let's go to New
York." New York is also a lonely place too. I like being quiet alone. If I
want to go to New York, I can go anytime. "
When he was hungry, he ate it quietly and went
on a bicycle to work. He came home and saw a computer or read books. I could
not talk needlessly to him who only reads books without any sound or rattle
when I went into the kitchen. I had no choice but to sleep on tatami. How could
I sleep so long! The fatigue of travel
went away completely.
At home, I didn’t not notice my husband, I talked
my way up, I made a mess and I acted my own way, but I had to be as quiet as I
did not want my son to do what he disliked. When he was working, I cleaned and
washed his clothes and sat in the sun and drank tea. Quiet like my son. It
seems to be silent meditation. My head cleared.
A long time ago, I remember when I went to my brother
's house with my father. My father said, "It’s just the second time I visited
to my son’s house even if I bought for him 20 years ago." "Why, do
not you come too often?" "I feel uncomfortable with each other to see
very often.” He added that people should stay in their place to feel
comfortable.
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