#8: Child's Departure - The End, and What Follows
Hello, this is Kazuo Baba.
I have a wife working in Malaysia and a child attending an international school there, while I live in Japan as the sole remaining head of the household, working and carrying on with life. Well, the Departure series #8 will chronicle the events leading up to our arrival at the Arrival gate on that day. This will conclude the Departure series. Thank you for staying with me until the end.
We will be arriving at Kuala Lumpur International Airport soon. We had about a three-hour transit at Changi Airport, and because of a minor squabble between father and child there, the mood on the plane is heavy rather than filled with excitement for our arrival (at least for me, anyway).
A father who takes his time shopping
It happened when I was browsing for Ray-Ban sunglasses at a duty-free shop as a birthday present for my wife, whose birthday was coming up soon. I am, if nothing else, a man who takes his time shopping (let me clarify that I am by no means a 'slow man').
There was a time at a local Xebio where I kept trying on over 10 pairs of everyday pants, occupying a fitting room for over 30 minutes. My child, exasperated, waited by sinking deep into an outdoor chair in the camping section far beyond the fitting rooms. Given that I tried on all those pairs only to end up buying a T-shirt for underwear that I didn't even try on, my child's annoyance was understandable.
Well, one might scold me by saying, 'You don't have any particular preferences, so anything will do,' when I go to Xebio to buy pants, but whether it's Xebio, Uniqlo, Isetan, or GUCCI, the more serious I am about shopping, the more time I take. And as expected, when I take that much time, I end up not buying anything most of the time. In short, what is important in shopping is an intuitive encounter, much like in romance. You might say, 'So in the end, you're just an impulsive shopper,' but that is not the case.
I have digressed significantly.
A father who takes his time at Changi Airport too
A similar scene occurred at Changi Airport. I was repeatedly trying on sunglasses myself, replacing my wife, to find a gift. My child must have thought that at this rate, I wouldn't buy anything. It's no wonder. After my best efforts at trying them on, I chose the ultimate pair. I proudly told the clerk (in broken English), 'It's a present for my wife, heh heh. Please wrap it.' The clerk then said (translated by my child), 'These are men's sizes, so the lenses might be too large. I'll try them on instead, so please take a look.' Indeed, they were too big for a woman. My wife is proud of her features, but even so, they were huge. After that, I made an immediate decision based on the sunglasses recommended by the clerk, using the clerk as a model. My child was once again fed up with my 'shopping habits.'
By the way, I fully accept the sound advice that I should have prepared the birthday present in advance in Japan instead of buying it on the spot at the last minute.
Well, such trivial events between father and child will eventually become faint memories. Far from forgetting the heat once the danger has passed, they actually become material for a NOTE like this. I can just proudly hand the gift to my wife, saying it was chosen by father and child. While I was thinking about such things vaguely, the plane began its landing sequence.
Arrival, and Reunion
Just as a DJ pours heat onto the floor, fires up the audience, and sometimes blows a cool breeze, they keep spinning the turntable with passion. Just before the Arrival gate at Kuala Lumpur International Airport, the carousel keeps spinning roughly, carrying the memories, expectations, and sometimes the sadness of the passengers. The stronger the feeling of waiting, the longer it takes for the luggage to appear. After collecting the checked suitcases one, two, and three, father and child finally head toward the Arrival gate.
'Oh, Mom.'
'Hey!'
'Welcome.'
A common scene at the Arrival gate becomes our own.
At the moment of reunion that finally arrived, I heard the sound of our family turning the page to the next chapter.
The Departure series, which looked back on the two months of life left behind in Japan by the father and child after the wife, who decided to work in Malaysia, flew off alone, comes to an end. Since then, as 'a wife working in Malaysia and a child learning,' our family has been on the journey of the next chapter, with ups and downs, laughter and tears, and the wife demonstrating her toughness, fragility, and brightness in various ways.
From now on, I would like to share events from our life in Malaysia, things I hear from my wife, and small experiences I have during my stays, through my own perspective.
See you in the next NOTE.
- Kazuo Baba -