pocoapocowithsmile


by Leave a comment

Story of Whales クジラの話

So much was going on this summer for our family. My son, Ikkei, and my daughter, Rutsu, visited us here in Powell River. Ikkei lives in Hawaii with Ryoko, and Rutsu lives with Dustin in Lions Bay just outside of Vancouver. Ikkei has two boys, ages 8 and 10. Rutsu has a boy age 7 and a girl age 5. They all arrived together…. with Rutsu’s two dogs and two cats. This was the first visit to Powell River for Ikkei’s family.

So, how should I entertain these inquisitive grandchildren who have boundless energy? After some thought, I decided to book a whale watching tour for our entire family.

So we did the tour! A total of 10 people, ages ranging from 5 to 73. We were on the boat for 3 hours.

A black former military inflatable boat, a Zodiac, was waiting for us at the dock. We all wore bright red/orange coverings which made us look like astronauts. The guide was the owner, Captain Matt. What a thrilling expedition it was! It became clear that he is not only an exciting boat driver, but he has amazing knowledge of ocean and history. He is also philosophical, and an excellent story teller.

We were able to meet several Humpback Whales, all busy diving, swimming, and splashing. We visited from a distance some big harems of huge loud Sea Lions. We admired cute seal cubs and elegant American Eagles.

What I loved the most was the story of oxygen that Matt told us near the end of the tour.

“What happens after whales, or us humans or all animals, die?” Matt says.

The physical bodies disappear, but some of the oxygen in the bodies stays in the air. The air, then, gets inhaled by another living creature, and gives vital support. When it dies, the air is breathed by the next creature, then another…it repeats the cycle for hundreds and thousands of years. So it is possible that we might be breathing the very oxygen that some whale of a thousand years ago had breathed.

“Imagine!” Matt says, “the oxygen you are now inhaling could be the very same oxygen some whale that lived 1000 years ago had breathed.”

Our boys were astonishingly quiet. They seemed to be listening seriously to Matt’s talk. I was also so moved by his grand story.

It reminded me of the very old tree on Texada Island, we call ‘Queen of the Island’. It is a magnificent tree that could have been standing more than a thousand years. Trees take in carbon dioxide which we exhale, and bless us with clean oxygen. A tree like ‘Queen of the Island’ could have been supplying oxygen to humans and animals for hundreds of years. Isn’t it incredible? We really need to protect oxygen, ocean, forest….our precious environment.

Well…boys, did you understand what Matt was saying? Not really? Don’t worry. You might not really understand it now, but there will be a time in your lives that it would make sense to you.

“That day when we went to see whales in the ocean from Powell River, we saw whales and we listened to some serious stories……”

It could be just that, but If the memory stays with you, one day you might realize that your life is taking a direction influenced by this memory. It could become one of the deciding factors for something important you might have to decide. Could be anything!

Well….that’s just what this 70 year old Obaba (grandma) hopes….

今年の夏は賑やかだ。7月にはハワイに住む長男夫婦、一敬と諒子、バンクーバー近くのライオンズベイに住む次女夫婦、瑠都とダステインが子供たちと犬2匹に猫2匹を連れて訪問してくれた。長男一家にとっては初めてのパウエルリバー。

2世帯の孫たちは5歳の女の子と7歳、8歳と10歳の男の子。さてどうすればこの子供達の旺盛な好奇心とエネルギーを満足させられるか…。そこで思いついたのはクジラ見物のツアーにみんなで参加することだった。5歳から73歳まで総勢10人、およそ3時間のツアーだ。

さてハンプバッククジラは忙しい。数匹のクジラが海底深く潜ったり、潮を吹いたり、逆さまになって尾びれを立てたり。大勢のメスアシカを従えて大声でおしゃべりに余念のない大海獣(大型アシカ)のハーレムはおもしろい。そしてひょうきんなアザラシの親子や優美な白頭鷲にもお目にかかれた。

ドックで待っていてくれたのは黒い旧軍のインフレータブルボート、ゾデイアック。宇宙服のような全身真っ赤(オレンジ色？)でパフパフのスーツを着こんで乗り込む。スリル満点のアドベンチャーに胸をドキドキさせてスタート。キャプテン・マットはエキサイティングなゾデイアックのドライバーであると同時に海や動物や歴史のエキスパートでもある。マットのガイドで興味深いお話や説明を聞きながらツアーが始まった。マットはなかなかの哲学者で優秀なストーリーテラーでもある。

でも私にとって1番印象深かったのはマットがツアーの最後に話してくれた酸素の話だった。

『人間でも鯨でも死んだらどうなるのだろうか。』

マットによると、肉体は無くなってしまうけど全ての酸素がなくなってしまうわけではない。空中に残って漂っている酸素もあるそうだ。鯨が生きている間に呼吸していた酸素は、鯨の死後、別の肉体に入り、新しい生命を支える大事な役目を果たしてくれる。そして次の生命、また次の生命と、サイクルは何百年、何千年と続いていく。だから何千年も前に生きた鯨の酸素を私たちが今吸っている可能性だってあるのだ。

「想像してごらん！」マットは言う。「1000年前に生きて呼吸していた鯨の酸素を今、僕たちが知らずに吸っているとしたら…！」

孫の7歳、8歳、10歳の男の子たちは珍しく黙って真剣にマットの話を聞いていた。私もその壮大な話にすっかり感動して耳を澄ませていた。

そういえばタクセーダ島に樹齢1000年(？)の見事な古木がある。私たちが『島の女王』と呼ぶ古木だ。木は私たちが吐く二酸化炭素を吸って、私たちにきれいな酸素を供給してくれる。一本の古木が何百年もの間、私たち人間や動物を生かしてくれているとしたら…。すごいよね。

私たちは本当に誠実に、自然を、地球を大事にしなければならない。心からそう思った。

一応、真剣に聞いていた男の子たち、さて本当に理解できたのかな？いやできなかっただろうな。今はまだわからなくても、いつかきっとわかる時が来る。私はそう思う。

『あのとき、パウエルリバーの海でクジラを見て、何やら難しい話を聞いたな。』

そんな感じでもいい。思い出だけでも心に残してくれていたら、あるとき何かのきっかけでふと思い出して、真剣に考えるときがくるかもしれない。人生の曲がり角で立ち止まってどっちにいこうか迷った時に進むべき道を示してくれる選択の一つになるかもしれない。人生ってそんなものじゃないかな。70歳のオババはそんなことを思った。


by Leave a comment

Soul Cleansing 魂の洗濯

For more than 2 years my tummy has been behaving weirdly. My sleep, also, has been disrupted easily, and I have often felt fatigued. Why? Are they common symptoms of getting old? Or am I having too much stress?

August is usually the month many people take a break and community events wind down. I had promised to myself that I will stay at our cottage on Texada Island most of August….no scheduling, no to-do-list, just to “be” there and relax.

When Neil and I both retired, we chose to build our house in Powell River, because it is the closest town to Texada island. We thought it would be convenient, we could get there quickly and easily. All we needed to do was hop on the ferry boat.

Powell River has been our home town for 5 years now. We love this musical, vibrant, and friendly town. We are involved in a variety of communities in town…neighborhood, exercising, walking, singing, reading, meditating, church…, lots of commitments, which always come with duties and responsibilities. I look over from Powell River shore to Texada shore, feeling a bit sad. When can I relax at our cottage?

There came another August. I made sure my promise to myself would be realized. We are now on Texada island, after the many months of waiting. Today is the seventh day here. Under the shiny blue sky, I see a bit of haze/smoke from wild fires somewhere down south. Beautiful, just so beautiful. “Cleansing My Soul” is a Japanese expression, that means being truly worry free.

It’s like a magic. My tummy which was giving me hard time is now behaving well. I am sleeping deeply every night. I am enjoying cooking and cleaning which used to be mere chores. Where did my stress go?

We all need to have the time for our “soul cleansing.”

From Powell River to Texada island

Texada Island

ここ2年ほど、なぜかお腹の不調が続いて、熟睡も出来ない日々が続いていた。疲れが思うようにとれない。としのせいかな？ストレス？

いろんな行事がひと休みになる8月は予定を極力入れず、大好きなタクセーダ島に行ってコテージで気ままにのんびり過ごそうと自分で自分に誓っていた。

ニールも私もリタイアしたのだから、いつでもすぐに行けるようにと、タクセーダ島に1番近いパウエルリバーの町に家を建てて住み始めてもうはや5年になる。

ところが、近くに住んでいるのに、さまざまな事情でなかなか思うように島に行けない。パウエルリバーの海岸から対岸のタクセーダ島の家々を眺めながら、一体いつになったら数日だけでもいいから滞在できるんだろうと切ない思いで見つめる。近いのに行けないことがいつの間にか大きなストレスになっていたように思う。

パウエルリバーの生活は充実していて楽しいけど、完璧に満足しているんだけど、いろんなことに手を出しすぎていて、なんとも忙しすぎるんだよね。

今年も8月になった。自分への約束通りさっそく8/1にタクセーダ島にやって来た。およそ1年ぶり。今日で7日間滞在している。底抜けに青い空の下方に、もやっと霞か煙が漂う。ワシントン州やオレゴン州の山火事の煙が北上しているという。とにかくなんとも言えない美しさだ。

「魂の洗濯」とは英語にはない表現だなと思う。でも本当に魔法のよう。あんなに厄介だった私のお腹の不調が嘘のように治っている。毎晩ぐっすり眠れている。おっくうだった毎日の料理や掃除がなぜか楽しい。「魂の洗濯」って大切、ゆっくり何もしない時間をあえて作るのも大切だなぁと感じる今日この頃。


by 1 Comment

From Generation to Generation 今世代から次世代へ

Women in my family – from left – me, my daughter, mom, my sister, my niece

My mother suddenly died in 2012. It was the year after the horrific earthquake and tsunami followed by the unbelievable nuclear meltdown in Fukushima. How time flies relentlessly… Her death was totally unexpected. She was only 82 and relatively well. One day, she had heart failure while taking her bath, and drowned.

She was a creative person, elegant and fashionable. A huge collection of her clothes was left behind. It was a weird feeling stepping into the familiar house with all her clothes, and her scent vividly present, but mom herself was gone…nowhere. Yet I feel like I can still hear her voice, her sigh, and laughter…My father passed away late last year, so my sister and I had to do something about their stuff.

One of the big problems was my mother’s hand dyed silk clothes. She dyed them herself, all from scratch and made into beautiful dresses, but all specifically fit to herself. Unfortunately, neither my sister nor myself could wear her dresses. Over many years I watched mom working hard day and night hand-dyeing the silk. She would make patterns, etch and cut, color onto silk, wash, dry…etc., such a complicated process… Who could throw them away, or donate them to strangers who might or might not appreciate the love and sweat that went into the silk. But then, what should I do with them? After thinking hard, I came up with an idea. What if I undo all the dresses and turn them into patch-work quilt and make bed spreads for my sister and myself?

However, there was a serious problem. I had no idea how to quilt; absolutely zero experience and zero knowledge about quilting. It was an incredible challenge for me and I didn’t even know where to start.

Right then, Jeanette came into my life, like an angel God had sent for me, and offered to teach me how to do this step by step. Thus…. the challenge of making my first ever quilt began. I opened my sewing machine which was tightly put away in its cover case. It had traveled with me through many moves, once across the Pacific Ocean, and had never been opened for many years. OMG… it was in disappointing shape. Some critical parts were missing, and it was in no way usable. So that was the end of my sewing machine that had traveled all the way from Japan 35 years ago. Jeanette mercifully lent me her machine.

My heart ached undoing my mother’s perfectly beautiful dresses. Yeah…mom had such sloping shoulders that were great in a kimono, but a couple of shoulder pads were necessary for dresses. She would hand-dye silk fabrics and dry them hanging wall to wall, like flags hanging in the house. I couldn’t help stopping my hand every time such memories occupied my head. What a slow process it was.

Even so, thanks to Jeanette, there are two beautiful bed spreads, after two years, all finished. My mother’s “bingata-zome ” dyes were reborn, reincarnated into something I could be proud of. I can tell my children, nieces and nephews, that these bed spreads were dyed by your grandmother, and quilted by Obaba (me). They can pass them on to their children for generations to come. Isn’t it wonderful?

I was so happy.

Thank you so much, Jeannette. I have no words to express my gratitude to you!

So…., I’m thinking….What should I quilt next….Is it going to be my new hobby?

My mom and my granddaughter Sumi
Quilt Bed spread

母が突然亡くなったのは福島の大震災の翌年、もう13年も前の話だ。年月が経つのは容赦なく早い。母の死はひどいショックだった。母は82歳で元気だったのに入浴中に心不全を起こしてあっけなく溺死してしまったのだ。

おしゃれが大好きでクリエイティブだった母が残した膨大な洋服のコレクション、何年も手付かずに実家に残してあったのだが、父が去年の暮に亡くなったこともあって、ようやく重い腰を上げて実家の整理を始めた。なんとも不思議な感覚だった。母が大好きだった洋服に囲まれて母の声が、息づかいが、笑い声が聞こえてきそうなのに、母はいない。

1番困ったのは母の手染めのシルクの洋服。母の体型に合わせてカスタムメイドされているので私や妹が着ても体型的に合わない。母が一生懸命手染めしている姿を何年も見てきているので処分するなどとんでもない。考えあぐねた挙げ句、洋服をほどいてパッチワークのベッドカバーにしたらどうか。挑戦してみようかと思ったけど、そんなこと全く経験のない私、どこから手をつけていいのやらわからない。

そこにまるで、『神の御使である天使』のように現れたジャネットが、手取り足取り教えてくれると言ってくれて、生まれて初めてのキルト作りに挑戦することになった。何度もの引っ越しを経て40年近くもしまいっぱなしだったミシンの蓋を開けてみると、まあまあなんと足りないものだらけ。結局日本から持ってきたミシンは使いものにならず、ジャネットのものを借りることになった。

母の洋服をほどくのは心が痛んだ。そうだよなあ…

母は撫で肩で着物が似合う体型だったなあ、とか何にでも肩パッドを入れてシャキッと形作ってたよなあ、とか染め上がった反物を旗のように家中に干しまくってたなあ、とかいろんな情景が走馬灯のように現れて、その度に思い出に浸って手が進まない。

それでも、それこそ何から何までおんぶに抱っこでジャネットのお世話になりながら2年がかりで我が家用のクイーンサイズのベッドカバーと妹の家用のソファカバーを作り上げた。これならば母の紅型染の作品も生きる。「これはあんたたちのお婆さんが手染めして、それをオババが縫ってキルトに仕立てたベッドカバーなんだよ」と何代にも渡って子供たち、甥や姪たち、孫たち、ヒー孫たちに語り継いで、残していくことが出来る。すばらしいじゃない？

すごく嬉しかった。

ありがとう、ジャネット。心から感謝している。なんとお礼を言ったらいいのかわからない。

次は何を作ろう、なんて考えたりして…

私の新しい趣味になりそうな予感。


by Leave a comment

Kathaumixw 合唱祭

Every two years, Powell River, the small town I live, hosts an international choral festival called Kathaumixw. It is, I was told, the only international choral festival in Canada. Kathaumixw means ‘gathering of different people’ in the local indigenous language.

It’s been around for 40 some years, and apparently this year was the 20th festival. Canada’s Independence Day, July 1, was the opening day and it literally filled the small town with choral music for 5 full days. The participating choirs came from not only Canada and USA, but also Costa Rica, Slovenia, New Zealand, Philippines, and Taiwan. My choir was the festival host choir. What a super-hectic, super-stimulating, super-exciting, and super-exhausting 5 days!

When the festival was over, I found myself in a somewhat stunned or ‘out of it’ state. My heart was crying out…”no, I don’t want it to end!” “Let me linger in the exhilaration!”, then slowly turned to ”I am so sad”, “l’m missing the excitement already”….

Especially the final concert was so inspiring to my heart. For four days since the festival opened, almost 1000 singers, learned the three beautiful choral pieces together, and rehearsed together, under the direction of Dr. Zimfira Poloz. Dr. Zimfira is the director of the Toronto Children’s Choir and a well-known well-respected educator in Toronto. I got to learn so much from her.

Dr. Zimfira told us a bit of her life story. She was an immigrant (refugee?) from Kazakhstan. When the USSR had collapsed, she and her husband emigrated to Canada. They were concerned about their future in Kazakhstan and Canada was one of only two countries in the world willing to welcome them. Their life in Canada was not easy, but every time they were given opportunities or challenges they felt so grateful. She said she would never take anything for granted.

Wow, she went through a similar path as an immigrant as myself, I thought. Of course, I immigrated from Japan which is a peaceful and stable country, and I didn’t have to be concerned with my security or my future. However, to a woman from Japan with hard-to-pronounce name, and not especially talented in anything, Canada gave me opportunities to build a decent life. I met many good hearted people. Abundant nature, peaceful country, clean air, warm kind friends…I feel so grateful.

So now, the festival is over. The town is back to normal getting ready for the tourist season. I run into my choir mates in town, we say to each other, “I can’t get those 3 pieces out of my head…..They are still ringing in my head.” Aren’t we lucky?

Music is the only language that has power to speak directly to our heart. Music can unite people instantly. I want to say my heart-felt “thank you” to my late parents who initiated music education for me 60+ years ago. And “thank you” to our beloved town of Powell River that included me in its music community.

Opening concert
First rehearsal of 3 common songs 参加者全員での最初のリハーサル
Concert コンサート
After the concert with my granddaughter Sumi and her friend コンサートの後で

2年に一度のインターナショナル合唱祭が7月の第1週目、カナダの独立記念日(7月1日)から5日間にわたって、私の住む小さな町、パウエルリバーで繰り広げられた。Kathaumixw というこのフェスティバルはカナダで唯一の国際的な合唱祭だという。Kathaumixwとはこの地域の原住民の言葉で『いろんな人々の集まり』という意味だそうだ。

今回第20回目、カナダ、アメリカを始め、コスタリカ、スロヴィニア、ニュージーランド、フィリピン、台湾など世界中から合唱団が参加して5日間に渡ってのコンサートづくしだった。なんとも忙しく、刺激満タン、疲労困憊の5日間、でも終わってみると、高揚の余韻と共になんともいえない寂しさに心が揺さぶられ続けたことも否定できない。

特に1000人近い参加者で合唱した最後のコンサート、4日間にわたって皆でリハーサルした3曲がなんとも美しくて感動的だった。指導してくださった Dr. Zimfira Polozというトロントの合唱団の指揮者であり教育者である先生との出会いは一生忘れられない。

先生はカザフスタンからの移民(難民？)だそうだ。ソ連が解体してカザフスタンが独立した際、先生ご夫妻は将来を案じて移民申請をしたそうだ。そのときに受け入れ表明をしてくれた世界中でたった2国のうちの一国がカナダだったという。カナダでの生活は薔薇色ではなかったけど、いろんなチャンスが巡ってきて、ひとつひとつ挑戦するたびに、機会を与えてくれたカナダに感謝し続けているそうだ。

そんな話を聞いて私は痛く感動した。私と似た境遇なんだと思った。私は平和な日本から来て、将来を案じて移民したわけではないけど、発音しにくい名前の、何と言って特別な取り柄のない私にカナダはいろいろチャンスを与えてくれた。素敵な出会いがいくつもあった。美しい大自然、温かい親切な人々、私も深く感謝しているんだよ。

フェスティバルの5日間が終わって静かな町が戻ってきた。夏の観光シーズンも間近。町角でコーラス仲間に出会うと、「あの3曲が頭から離れないよ」と言う話になる。こんなすばらしい体験をさせてもらって私は幸せ者だと心から思う。

音楽は世界共通、人々の心に直接深く働きかけてくれる。今さらながら、60＋年前、幼い私に音楽を学ぶ機会を与えてくれた亡き父と母に心から感謝。そして仲間に入れてくれたパウエルリバーに感謝。


by Leave a comment

Stuff

—The wooden birds at my parents’ living room—

Two months after my father’s funeral, I went again to Tokyo and spent the whole month sorting stuff at my parents’ house.

It was overwhelming. Amazing volume of stuff, like my mother’s clothes, kimono, her artwork of silk-dye paintings, bone china paintings, and her water color Japanese paintings, lots of gifts given to my father during his 30 years of working in Los Angeles, Indonesia and San Francisco, many of them still beautiful, carved on valuable teak woods that are now extinct, and also…there are many artworks my parents purchased….Where can I start?

I did my best to sort stuff to a pile of keeps, no keeps, and throw aways in that one month I was there. However, I was no way near finishing when I had to return to Canada.

It was beyond my imagination how difficult this task could be….I was stunned to see how wasteful…. I was surprised to find out how different we all are. Even family members have different views and values, different reactions, different tastes…..

Just after we arrived in Los Angeles in 1969, we went on a family driving trip to Mexico. The moment we crossed the border from the US to Mexico, the scenery changed drastically, from green lawns to brown desert. Dry dusty sands were blowing everywhere and tiny houses looked built with layered carton boxes. People looked poor wearing clothes torn and disfigured. I was shocked to see how differently inside and outside of the border looked.

We saw a man with brown tanned face wearing a big straw hat, putting some wooden carved birds at the roadside. My mother said, “how interesting! Can we stop and see?”

So we stopped our yellow Chevy Impala, got out, and looked the birds that this cheerful and friendly man had carved. The birds were so simple, not even oil stained, but so interesting and cute.

From that day, for 55 years the birds sat in the corner of my parents’ living room and watched over us. Whenever I saw these birds, I thought of the man’s smiling face, his straw hat, the burning sun, the dry sand, the poor villages….. I couldn’t dare throw the birds away. I wanted to send them to Canada. However, I was told that since the birds were carved with untreated wood, they would not be permitted to enter Canada. I was crushed…so sad.

After I came back to Canada, I received a message from my daughter in Tokyo. “Look who are here!” The wooden birds are now sitting in my daughter’s home! ‘Oh they were adopted!’ You wouldn’t believe how happy I was!

I was born in 1955, only 10 years after the end of World War II. I grew up during the time Japan was so poor, just recovering from the dreadful war, and there was nothing. Things were scarce and nobody had anything luxurious. ‘Do not waste things,’ ‘you have to take care of things’, ‘cherish your possessions’, my parents and grandparents told me over and over. Perhaps that’s why my heart aches when I see things that look completely fine thrown into the garbage pile. I hear the utterances of others…. I don’t want this… I don’t want that… it’s not my taste…. it doesn’t suit my house….,I don’t have the space for this…..

I know it’s a popular trend to get rid of things, keeping the bare minimum, and living a simple life as an extreme minimalist.

However, I can’t do that. Of course, I don’t agree with the lifestyle with too much stuff, the house turning into a hoarder’s.

But for me, stuff is part of my history.

I would like to treasure things that bring back memories. I want to keep loving stuff that had dear meanings in my life. I would like to value my relationships with those special things.

After all, did you know that Zen Buddhism which is supposed to have had immense influence on Japanese culture, actually teaches that ‘things’ have souls as well?

—The wooden birds in my daughter’s home—

2024年の年末に父が他界した。お葬式の2ヶ月後、私は再度帰国してまるまる1ヶ月ほど実家の整理に明け暮れることになった。実家は亡き母の洋服や着物、母の作品である紅型染や陶器の絵付けや日本画の数々、亡き父の30年にわたる海外駐在中に贈られた置物の数々(多くは今は絶滅したとされる美しいチーク材だ)、それに加えて両親が購入した記念品や美術品で溢れ、どこから手をつけて良いやらわからない状態。とりあえず手をつけられるところから、処分したり片付けたり、できるだけのことをしてカナダに帰ってきた。

それにしても何と難しいことか。なんと無駄が多過ぎることか。物に対する考え方が人それぞれどれだけ異なることか。考えさせられることが多かった。

1969年、ロサンゼルスに父の転勤で落ち着いたばかりのころにメキシコまで初めて家族でドライブ旅行をしたことがあった。アメリカからメキシコの国境を超えた途端、景色が緑の芝生から褐色の乾いた砂漠へとガラッと変わった。砂ぼこりの舞う乾いた土地に、まるでダンボールを重ねただけのように見える小さな家々、ボロボロの服をまとった人々の姿にショックを受けたことをはっきり覚えている。

そんな道端で一人の麦わら帽子をかぶったおじさんが素朴な木彫りの鳥たちを並べていた。母が目ざとく見つけて「面白いね、ちょっと止まって見てみようよ」と言う。私たちは道端に黄色いシェブロンのインパラを停めて、日焼けした人懐っこい顔のおじさんの木彫りの鳥たちに見入った。本当に素朴で木にニスも何も塗ってない、ただ彫っただけの鳥たち、でも何とも愛嬌があって面白かった。

その日から55年以上も2羽の木彫りの鳥たちは実家のリビングルームの一角で私たちの生活を見守り続けてくれた。鳥たちを見ると必ずあの日のおじさんの笑顔が、乾いた強い陽射しが、貧しい村々が、私の胸によみがえってくる。どうしても捨てられなくてカナダに持って帰ろうと思ったら、加工されてない生木の作品だから検疫を通れないと聞いて、泣く泣くあきらめることになった。がっかり…悲しかった。

カナダに帰ってしばらくしたら東京に住む娘の知香から写真が送られてきた。「ここに居るのはだーれだ？」何とあのメキシコの生木の鳥たちが娘の家にちんと居座っているではないか。ああ、引き取ってくれたんだ、と無性に嬉しくなった。

私は1955年生まれ。戦後10年の物のない時代に生まれて、『物を粗末にしてはいけない、大事にしなければいけない』と言われ続けて育ってきた。そのせいか、『これもいらない、あれもいらない、家に合わない、家が狭い、置き場所がない、』とどんどん捨てられていく物たちを見ていると胸が痛む。

今流行りの、物を捨ててすっきり、最小限の物だけで暮らすのが良いとするミニマリストの極端な考え方にはついていけないものを感じる。もちろん物がありすぎてゴミ屋敷になるのは困るけど、想い出に直結した物を大切にすることも大事なんじゃないか。生きてきた軌跡を愛でることは単なるおセンチだとは私は思わない。

『物にも魂がある』というのは大切な禅の教えじゃなかったっけ？


by 1 Comment

Funeral

My father in 2019

My father’s funeral was held at his church in Tokyo. It was a Christian service. Although the minister of the church had never met my father, he performed a heartfelt, sincere service that I truly appreciated.

Although I appreciated the funeral service, I didn’t feel peaceful about everything else after the service. The farewell staging was so pretentious that it left me cold. I have to note that it was after the church service and it had nothing to do with the minister or the church.

The farewell staging, or final goodbye, included some discomforting rituals.

The funeral director from the undertaking company, for example, told us to stroke my father’s face to express our love. The family members all stroked the icy cold face.

I also felt awkward sitting in the hearse which was driving off from the church while a group of people singing hymn were seeing it off. It reminded me of a scene from a century old black & white movie. The hearse carried my father and us to the crematorium.

And more dreadful ritual was that the family members picked up his burnt bones with chopsticks and placed them into the urn.

It didn’t sit well with me at all. I felt extremely uncomfortable. People say it’s just how funerals are conducted in Japan. It’s one of those cultural things. It sure is a big cultural difference. But it was not just that. Something was making me feel uneasy. What was it? I kept wondering.

It’s been almost 3 months passed since that funeral day. Thinking back now, I feel that the reason I felt so uneasy could be coming from my fundamental lack of understanding.

What is the objective of the funeral? I feel that in Japan the focus of the funeral is on “death”. It reminds us over and over that the person is now dead.

The focus of a funeral in Canada, where I have been living for the last 35 years, is more on “life”. The life the person lived is remembered.

I still remember how the cold face felt on my palms. It was something I didn’t want to remember. I wanted my father to be alive in my memory until the day I die. I wanted him to be a healthy lively person with a warm and beautiful soul, not a cold corpse or fragile bones.

Experiencing such a cold face would be too shocking for my little grandchildren. I worry that they would only remember that coldness rather than the warm smile and beautiful bass voice of their great grandpa who loved them.

My heart sank. It was the saddest day of my life.

父のお葬式はキリスト教の教会で行われたとはいえ、日本の典型的なお葬式であったことは歪めない。日本のお葬式とカナダのお葬式はなんだか根本的に違う気がする。お葬式の式自体は、父に会ったこともない牧師さんだったとはいえ、心のこもった誠実な式だったと思う。

でも式の後のお別れの演出が何ともわざとらしくて嫌だった。例えば葬儀社の人が、親族の人たちに、冷たくなった父の顔を撫でるように誘導したり、霊柩車を見送るときに讃美歌を歌いながら見送ったり…。そうしてそのまま火葬場に行ってお骨拾いをしたり…。

何か違う、なにかそぐわない気がして抵抗感があった。もちろん文化の違いだと言われればその通りだと納得せざるを得ないのかもしれない。でも何か違う。何だろう、どうしてこんなにモヤモヤするんだろう、とずっと考えていた。

3ヶ月たった今思うと、結局、根本的にお葬式の意義というか、目的というか、フォーカスのようなものが私の知っているカナダのお葬式とは違うような気がするのだ。つまり、日本のお葬式は『死』がフォーカスであるのに対してカナダのお葬式は『生』がフォーカスなのかもしれないと思った。日本のお葬式がその人が死んだことを、これでもかこれでもかと強調するのに対して、カナダのお葬式はその人の生きた人生を強調する。もう35年もカナダに住んでいる私はそういうカナダの感覚に慣れきっているのかもしれない。

私は正直言って冷たくなった父の顔を撫でてその冷たい感触がずっと手を通して私の中に記憶されるのに抵抗を感じる。父は私の記憶の中でずっと生きていてほしい。いつまでも元気で温かい父の感触を覚えていたい。死んで骨になった父ではなく、生きていた元気な父をいつまでも覚えていたい。孫や小さな曾孫が曾祖父さんのことを、触ったときの氷のように冷たい感触として覚えるのではあまりにもせつないではないか。温かい笑い顔を、美しい低音の声をいつまでも覚えていてもらいたい。

無性に切なくて胸が痛む1日だった。


by Leave a comment

My Father

My father lived more than 13 years after my mother passed. He lived to be almost 97 years old. People say, he had a long happy life. Yes, for sure, he did have a long life. However, his last 13 years must have been terrible. I cannot believe he had ever felt anywhere near “happy”. Perhaps some natural defense mechanism had kicked in, possibly in order to blur his loneliness, his memory had started to deteriorate little by little. It eventually took away his ability to recognize us, his family faces. He could not remember us despite our strong kinship. He had dementia.

Dementia is a terrifying disease. I read an article about it describing what it would be like. Imagine sitting in an airplane all by yourself, not knowing why, definitely not because you want to go somewhere. The plane takes off and lands somewhere and you have to get off. You see people everywhere, surrounding you and talking. But you don’t know anybody. You don’t understand a word they are saying. You feel helpless, you don’t know what to do. Some people look aggressive, and you feel they may harm you, but there is no way of defending yourself. You are totally alone.

My father must have felt like this for the last several years, fearful and devastated. How terrifying it must have been.

I am sad I was helpless, powerless and worthless for him. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t even be physically with him, just sit with him, help him feel at peace. Of course I was living far away, but still…..

My father was the person who was always quick to help me when I got in trouble, in tears, or feeling lost and overwhelmed. He was also quick to celebrate my joyous moments, flying to wherever I was.

It hurts to recognize that I was utterly useless when my father needed me the most, and there is no other chance left for me to make it up.

母が亡くなっておよそ13年たって父が亡くなった。もうすぐ97歳だった。長生きしたね、幸せな人生だったね、と人は言うかもしれない。でも母が亡くなってからの13年間は決して良い人生だったとはいえないと思う。一人ぼっちになった寂しさを忘れるためかのように少しずつ少しずつ記憶が薄れていって最期の数年間は娘たちのことも忘れてしまったように見えた。いわゆる認知症だったのだと思う。

認知症というのは恐ろしい病気だという。どこかで読んだことがある記事によると、まるで自分の意志とは無関係に飛行機に乗せられ、たった一人、どこだかわからない知らない国に連れて行かれるようなものだという。言葉もわからない、知っている人もいない、みたこともないところで降ろされ、放り出されるようなものだという。怖い顔をされても酷いことをされても自分を守る術もない。そんな状態で最期の数年を生きた父、どんなにか恐ろしい思いをしたことだろう。どんなに寂しかったことだろう。

遠い国に住んで近くにいなかったとはいえ、何の役にも立てなかった、いっしょに座っててあげることもできなかった。慰めの言葉さえかけてあげられなかった自分の非力さを思う。

私が困ったとき、悲しかったとき、圧倒されてどうしようもなかったとき、不安に打ちひしがれていたとき、いつもさっと救いの手を差し伸べてくれた父。その父が一番救いを必要としていたときに私は何もしてあげられなかった…何ともやるせない。


by Leave a comment

Sloooow Life ゆ〜っくり

In July, I visited my son and his family in Honolulu for a week.

My journey began with taking a small plane from Powell River to Vancouver. I enjoyed the thrill of low altitude flying and dynamic Sunshine Coast sceneries. A few times, the young handsome captain made announcements in the plane. His talk was amazing…supreme tongue twister…totally impossible to keep up and understand what he was speaking. I thought, well… he must be saying something boring that he could even repeat in his sleep for every flight…how could it be important? 😜

So I arrived in Honolulu. My goodness, I noticed people are speaking so fast there too. I had to keep saying “eh?” asking for repetition. How come people speak so fast? Definitely faster than people in Powell River.

Then a memory came back to me. It was perhaps about 30 years ago. I was working in a college called Harbourside College. It was a small school and I was one of the few administrators responsible for key tasks like registration, marketing, and student services. I was always super busy. Every time I walked out of the office, people asked me questions from all corners of the school. Then I would go home to my three little children, all craving for my attention, and waiting to be fed. One day, I went to Japan for business and stayed at my parents’ home for few days. When we were having conversations, my mother looked at me puzzled and said. “Why do you talk so fast?” Suddenly, I was hit by a surprise. Am I speaking so fast? I never even noticed that. Is it because of my busy life? Have I forgotten to take time to enjoy conversations? Have I forgotten to relax?

After all, when I think of it, my mother, then, was around my age.

So, that means, Neil and I with our old dog Lu are aging and becoming slower. No wonder, living in slow countryside towns of Powell River and Texada Island is very comfortable for us. Does that mean we will keep getting older and slower without even noticing? Isn’t it scary?

Grandchildren in Hawaii

７月の1週間、息子とその家族が住むハワイのホノルルに行ってきた。

まず私の住むパウエルリバーからバンクーバーまで小さな飛行機に乗って低空飛行のスリルとダイナミックな西海岸の景色を楽しむ。若いハンサムな機長がいろいろアナウンスしてくれるんだけど何とも言えない強烈な早口で、私は全く雲に巻かれた感じ。何を言ってるのかまるでわからない。もう少しゆっくりしゃべってください、と言いたかったけど、どうせ決まりきったことを言ってるに違いないからまあいいか、と聞き流した。ハワイに着いたらこれまたみんながすごい早口でしゃべっている。私はついていけなくて「え？」と必ず聞き直す始末。何でみんなこんなに早口なんだろう。パウエルリバーとはまるで違うじゃないか。

ふと30年ほど前のことを思い出した。私がハーバーサイドカレッジという学校で働いていた頃…小さな学校だったのでいろいろ責任あるポジションを掛け持ちしていて最高に忙しかった。右を向いても左を向いてもあっちこっちから質問が飛んでくる。家に帰ったら帰ったで3人の子供達がお腹を空かせて待っている。そんな状態だった私が出張で日本に行って実家で泊まっていた時に、母が怪訝な顔で私を見て「あんた、何でそんな早口にしゃべるん？」と聞いてきて、私はハッとした。自分ではそんな早口で喋ってるとは気付いてなかったから心底びっくりした。そう、あんまり忙しくて気持ちに余裕がなかったからか、知らず知らずのうちにベラベラベラベラ早口に喋りまくっていたのかも、と気がついた。そんなことをふと思い出した。

つまり私が歳をとったということだよね。そう言えばあの頃の母の年齢って考えてみたら今の私の年齢じゃないか。

あれから知らず知らずのうちに30年経ってしまったように私も歳をとってしまうのだろうか。パウエルリバーとかタクセーダとかの田舎で、近年とみにゆ～っくりになったニールと私がこれまたお年寄りワンコのルーとの～んびり暮らして、いつの間にか30年たってしまうっていうこと？何だか怖いじゃない？


by Leave a comment

Friends?

Last year I suffered from terrible sciatica…perhaps caused by my lack of exercising (?). In any case, I promised myself, “never again”! I was determined to work on becoming fitter. I began with muscle training. I attend fitness classes almost everyday. A class called “Strength and Core” is held on Monday mornings at the Powell River Rec Centre. There are many fitness classes offered there, but I find this class most effective for me.

Of course, there are many other like-minded people who also come to this class. Although demanding and exhausting, the class is very popular. In order to secure a favorite spot, people typically arrive 30 minutes before the class, go straight to the spot and spread their mat. It’s funny…some people like to be close to the instructor; some want to be closer to the wall, some want to have the best view of themselves in the mirror…etc. I like to be in the front row, close to the mirror, and close to the instructor.😆 I’m also one of those people who arrive early before the class, and spread my mat at the right spot. I love to be perfectly prepared.

And, one day….the class was just starting….music came on….bodies began to move….. just at that moment, a tall guy with fuzzy hair arrived to the class. He was perhaps in his 50s, perhaps with some kind of mental/cognitive challenge. He walked right into the class, and walked straight toward where I was. He said to me, “you are in my spot.” Apparently, he usually comes on Tuesdays, and the instructor is reserving this spot for him. I almost said “No, this is my spot!”, but I didn’t. Instead, I just nodded, moved my mat, and let him take my spot. I thought, since he might have some kind of disability, I better let him do whatever he needed. Later on, some of my classmates said to me, “You didn’t have to give him your spot”. Of course I didn’t have to, but I felt I did the right thing.

A few days later, I ran into this guy on the road. I said “Hi!” with my usual smile. His face was motionless. He looked rather nervous and murmured something to me. “What?” I couldn’t hear him. He said, “do you want to go to the Chinese restaurant in the mall nearby?” I was surprised, not expecting such an invitation. What should I say to him? My mouth stumbled….“Uuuum… I have to go home right away.” He nodded and kept on walking. I felt sorry and walked away, but kept on thinking, “did I do the right thing?”

Was I mean? The guy perhaps has no friend….he might have thought I could become his friend. It might have required so much courage for him to talk to me. And no doubt, he thought he was rejected…actually that was true…I did reject him. I’m sorry. When I put myself in his shoes I could really feel his pain.…

Lilacs

昨年、坐骨神経痛なるものにかかって大変苦しい思いをした私。2度と同じ苦しみを味わいたくないと筋肉をつけるトレーニングを始めた。パウエルリバーの市が経営するフィットネスのクラス、いろいろある中で私は月曜日の朝のStrength and Coreというクラスが特に気に入って毎週行くようにしている。

このクラスは他のクラスに比べてハードできついせいか、人気があって、それなりにフィットをめざす人たちですぐ定員いっぱいになる。だからみんな３０分くらい前にはクラスに入って自分のマットを広げる場所を確保する。前方の先生のそばがいい人、後方の壁のそばがいい人、鏡の前がいい人

それぞれいろいろ。私は一番前で、先生の近くで、鏡の見える場所が気に入っていて、皆と同じく３０分以上前に行ってマットを広げて始まりを待つ。準備オーケー。

音楽が鳴り始めて、身体が動き始めて、さあクラスがスタートというそのときに…アルという軽い知能障害(?)のある男性がクラスに入ってきた。まっすぐ私に向かってに歩いて来て、「そこ、僕の場所なんだけど…」といった。彼がいつも来る火曜日のクラスでは先生が彼のためにその場所をキープしているから、というのが理由らしい。私は、一瞬、『今日は火曜日じゃないよ』と思ったけど、異議を挟まず、頷いて場所をゆずった。知能障害があるかもしれない人だから黙って譲った方がいいと思ったのだ。あとで何人かの人に「譲らなくてもよかったのに〜」とか言われたけど、私は自分では仕方ないよね、と納得してた。

数日後、道でばったりアルと出会った。「ハーイ」と普通に挨拶を交わすと、無表情のアルはモコモコ口ごもって小さな声で何か言った。「え？」聞き返すと「近くのモールにある中華レストランに行かない？」と言う。あまりにも思いがけなくて何と答えたらいいのか分からなくて、しどろもどろに「うーん、すぐに家に帰らなきゃいけない用事があるから…」とことわった。でも、あとあと、これでよかったのかな、とずっと考えていた。

意地悪だったかもしれない。友達のいないアルが私なら友達になってくれるかもしれないと思って誘ってくれたんじゃないか。もしそうだったとしたら、ことわって、すごくかわいそうなことをしたんじゃないか…


by Leave a comment

Potpourri of Thoughts

We came back to Texada Island finally, after 9 long months. I love this island. It’s so close to my vision of heaven. Hard to believe that we have been coming here for so long. We built our round cottage 20 years ago. In it, we created a Japanese tatami room with some tatami mats. It turned out beautifully. However, of course, our dog Kuma had to go onto the brand new tatami to have a terrible diarrhea. Although somewhat nicely faded over time, the stains are still visible after 20 years. But you know what? I even love those stains. It makes me smile. The cottage has been a restful healing place for us. It has been witnessing our life and family history for 20 years.

‘Gosh… 20 years! No wonder we are getting old…”, we sigh. Time is indeed flying away like a butterfly.

We moved to Powell River 3 years ago and have been enjoying our retirement. We feel blessed to be included in this friendly community…for example….

When I went to my fitness class in the morning, one of my classmates brought me a bunch of green asparagus from her garden. She said, “You told me you love asparagus, right?” “Yes, I love them! Wow…beautiful asparagus!” They were very delicious.

The same day, when I finished exercising, I went to a coffee shop. I ordered a cup of coffee and a muffin. The clerk said, “Yours have been already paid.” “Oh no, I haven’t paid yet….” I looked at her puzzled. She smiled and said, “The person in front of you in the line had a gift card, and said to use the money left on the card to pay for the next person’s order.” Wow, a stranger has treated me my breakfast for no reason, and made my day.

How cool is that! What a happy day.

From the ferry boat to Texada Island
Our Round Cottage

9ヶ月ぶりのタクセーダ島、ここはやっぱり私にとっては天国。考えてみると初めてここを訪れてからもう20年になる。この地にま〜るいコテージを建てて、カナダでは手に入りにくい畳を敷いて和室を作ったのはいいけど、さっそく当時の愛犬、クマがわざわざその真新しい畳の上で、ピーピー下痢をして汚してしまった。だいぶ薄くはなったけど畳にはシミがしっかり残っている。そんなシミさえなんとも愛おしい。子供達に孫たち、そしてクマを始め愛するペットたちの様子を見守ってきたこのコテージ、優しいエネルギーに満ちて、なんとも言えない温かさを感じる。このコテージは私たち夫婦の生活、そして家族の歴史をずっと20年間見守ってくれたんだなあ。

「もうここに来始めてから20年。私たちも歳をとったわけだよね」ニールと話す。年月は矢の如く飛んでいく。

パウエルリバーでリタイア後の人生を過ごすと決めて引っ越してきてからもはや3年、すっかりコミュニティに馴染んで快適な日々を過ごしている。

先日は嬉しいことがあった。朝、いつものフィットネスのクラスに行くとクラスメイトの友人が思いがけず、庭で育てたアスパラガスを持ってきてくれた。「あなた、アスパラガス好きだって言ってたでしょ」「うわーおいしそう!! ありがとう」感激した。夕飯にいただいたアスパラガス、みずみずしくておいしかった。

その同じ日、クラスが終わって、ひとりで近くのコーヒーショップに行き、コーヒーとマフィンを頼むと、「お代はもういただいてますからいいです」と言われた。私がキョトンとしていると、店員さんが笑いながら説明してくれた。私の前のお客さんがギフトカードを持っていて「このカードに残っている金額で次の人のお代を払ってあげてね」と言い残していったそうな… 見ず知らずの人が私の朝食をプレゼントしてくれたんだよ。すごくない？

いたく感激した。うれしい１日だった。