🌸 Noire Henro-san: Golden Week Pt 5, A Man and His Mother

Kochi Prefecture

I had an experience today. It got me thinking. The words and thoughts, however, were not new. Let me show you some of them. Then I will tell you the story.

• caretaking in Japan
• weariness
• can’t escape life or death
• age old dilemma
• brother from a different mother
• golden week (how did that get in here?) versus golden years

A Man and His Mother

I met a man today. I met his mother too. On a day that I had taken off from my walking, I decided to go to Kochi City. It was Sunday, so I walked to the bus stop in Nagahama. I wanted to learn to interpret the bus schedules (in Japanese).

I left the guesthouse and crossed the bridge toward the bus shelter near the center of town.

While I waited at the bus shelter, a man stopped in front. My first thought was that people get out early on Sunday in this town. Then it seemed that he was looking for someone.

Soon I saw a woman roll up in a wheelchair scooter to the bicycle parking lot. The man walked over and helped her secure her vehicle. He helped her get off.

She took a little time getting out of the seat. Then, they crossed the street to the bus shelter. She walked slowly.

This impressed me as striking a balance between helping and respecting the woman’s ability to walk on her own. The man opened the door to the bus shelter. We all exchanged greetings immediately. They were curious about where I was from. I told them the U.S…. America. They nodded their heads and smiled.

Small talk with a mother

Our small talk was pleasant enough. I told them that I was walking the Shikoku 88 temple pilgrimage. They seemed to be impressed. The son told me that his mother wanted me to know that she was 88 years old. She was happy about that. We smiled and laughed at the coincidence.

The mother wanted to know more about me. She told her son that I had a nice smile and face. I thanked her for saying so in Japanese… arigato gozaimasu. That tickled her. We all laughed.

What we do know

The son told me he learned a little English in America as a young man. He expressed embarrassment that he had forgotten a lot. I told him I understood him and that my Japanese was nonexistent. He was relieved and happy when I told him I find it difficult to maintain a language when you have no one to speak to and practice with.

It’s the learning that’s important.

The mother listened very attentively and smiled at me constantly. Her son translated for both her and me. She spoke to him when she wanted to ask me something. This time she asked my age. I told them that I was 67 years old. Both did a double take. They thought it was incredible because of my attitude, appearance and that I was alone. There was a bit more small talk.

Hmmm, I’ve been here before.

Tired

Then the son told me something. First he said that he was 61 years old and the caretaker for his mother. At that moment I detected a bit of weariness on his face. He said his mother was physically ill. Then he subtly pointed to his head to indicate she suffered from memory loss.

In my heart I knew what he was indicating. I understood anything that he could say – would say – from that moment.

Then he said in very good English that “frankly he was tired”. He wavered and teared up briefly as he told me.

I told him that I understood what he was feeling as I, too, was a caretaker for my mother who died a few years ago. I think at that point he felt a little better. His mother saw the tears on his face.

Could she understand that he was confiding in me, a stranger? I hope she did not detect the heaviness in his heart. And I pray that she saw two kindred souls just connecting and sending blessings to each other.

Love is always a choice

I believe he loved his mother. Also, I believe that he thought as I once did: is this all there is? Will this – caretaking – be the endpoint for me as a dutiful child of my beloved parent?To tell the truth, I felt that I was dying while caring for the dying. I grappled with the thought that my own life was over… that my dreams would be, at best, deferred.

The question I asked myself many times, will I recover my life…if and when the time comes?

Does devotion to a parent equal death of my dreams? Will time run out for me?

I can give both answers and arguments depending on the moment, hour, or day.

Actions do not betray, but language is filled with the danger of betrayal at any instant. This quality is what makes language both infinitely beautiful and infinitely frightening.

– Fumiko Enchi

I realized while talking with my brother from another mother that nothing is new under the sun, after all. It felt as though we were sitting at my kitchen table simply sharing and caring.

Get on the bus

The bus arrived and we got on. He told me to get on first so he could help his mother board. As we got settled, the mother grabbed and squeezed my hands before going to her seat. The son also grabbed my hands and held them for a while. I felt the love and kinship from them… each in their own way.

And off

The bus drove on until it was time for them to get off. They disembarked at the front. Before stepping off, both mother and son turned to wave to me. When the bus pulled off, I looked out the window to see them one last time. They stood on the curb, waving. I waved back as though they were family. For a few moments, we were.

And that touched my soul.

My wish for a man and his mother

I hope the son gets to do one or two things he desires. I will leave a wish at the next temple that he achieves a deferred dream or two. Importantly, I will wish that the mother basks in the glow of his love.

Back at the Farmhouse

The seawall protecting the town.

Here is a view of the neighborhood from the balcony. Listen to the rain.

Click on video:

💧

When you come out of the storm you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what the storm is all about.

– Haruki Murakami

Baadaye and Mata ne

Shirley J 🌸

During the spring of 2024, I began a pilgrimage in Japan where I am walking 1200 kilometers or 720 miles on the Shikoku trail from Temple 1 Ryōzenji to Temple 88 Ōkuboji and beyond. Read my original announcement here.

I am excited, and I am here, still walking. And just know this, I will return to tell the tale!