On Mother's Day, I embrace my former self.

Every time Mother's Day comes around, a certain scene suddenly comes to mind.


When I was in elementary school.


It was a time when there were far fewer single-parent households than there are now. At school, we had a class where we drew portraits for Mother's Day. Having lost my mother, my teacher said to me,

"Draw a picture of your grandmother."

That made me, as a young child, feel very lonely.

My friends around me were drawing their "mothers" without hesitation. But I was the only one who was different.

I still cannot forget that stinging feeling deep in my chest from back then.
A long time has passed since then.

This year's Mother's Day.

A warm message arrived from my son who is working hard in Tokyo.

My daughter sent me beautiful flowers.

The little me who once felt like she had no place on Mother's Day is now in a place where I am called "Mom" and thought of by others.

Today, I delivered a cake and carnations to my husband's parents.

With a family birthday also falling on this day, it was a lively time as we all gathered around the cake.

I am now standing in the middle of the "ordinary, warm Mother's Day" that I wanted so much when I was young.

I want to tell the little me who was drawing a picture of her grandmother while holding onto that loneliness back then:


"It's okay. A happy Mother's Day will come for you, too."

While savoring the happiness I have now,
it was a day of quiet gratitude toward those who raised me.

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