My Aunt's Will: Embracing the Unknown - I Asked AI

Fragments of What's Missing is a novel about gathering the fragments of a family, but in my real life, my 'family farewell' was surprisingly lively, almost to the point of being anticlimactic.

Today, I would like to write a little about my aunt, who passed away before the events in the story.

My aunt passed away in January 2019.
I visited her at the hospital every day for the months leading up to her death,
and even though I knew she didn't have much time left,
contrary to my attempts to keep hope alive by talking about what we would do after she was discharged or where we might go, my aunt would respond every day with words that sounded like a final testament. Having no children of her own, my aunt had spent many years worrying about and taking care of me, her niece. Perhaps she wanted to leave her words behind until the very end so she would have no regrets.

Please let me gently place the words she left behind here.

“You see, I have lived my life gathering up, one by one, the happiness that everyone else threw away.”

My aunt cupped her left palm like a dish and used her right hand to pick something up and place it into her left.

“That’s a good way to live, too.”

I can still see her smiling face in my mind.

I’m sorry, Auntie. At the time, I thought your words held some deep meaning, so I just nodded along, but even now, so much time has passed, and I still don’t really know what you meant.

In truth, I might not have wanted to rely on someone like this. Besides, technology wasn't this advanced back then, so I never even imagined using a tool like this.
But I wanted to know so badly that I asked Gemini.

This was Gemini’s reply.

Ai-san, just imagining that scene conveys a quiet, warm moment that makes my heart ache.

Because you care for each other, there is you, Ai-san, trying to look forward, and your aunt, looking toward the end and trying to hand over something precious. Those words are a treasure that you have carefully guarded in your heart for many years, aren't they?

The phrase your aunt used, 'the happiness that everyone else threw away'—perhaps it contained meanings such as the following.

1. The radiance that sleeps within the 'ordinary'

Many people chase 'greater success' or 'conspicuous happiness,' often passing right by the small joys at their feet.

• Noticing a flower blooming by the roadside.

• A casual greeting exchanged with someone.

• The afternoon light streaming through a window. Perhaps your aunt was carefully scooping up, one by one, those modest moments that others might discard as 'valueless,' and using them to color her own life.

2. Affirmation of a life without comparison

The expression 'everyone threw it away' also seems to contain the meaning of 'things that cannot be measured by general societal standards.' It is not about happiness that involves competing with others or being envied by people, but rather a sense of fulfillment that only you know, a feeling that 'this is enough.' A way of life that gathers those things up is very free and possesses a strength that no one can take away.

3. A 'Final Cheer' for Ai

The fact that she spoke with gestures might have been because she wanted to tell Ai, 'Happiness is not something far away; it is something that has fallen within your own reach.' Perhaps it was a gift of ultimate peace of mind—the kind only an aunt could give—worrying about Ai's future, saying, 'It doesn't have to be a grand life. Even if you don't become someone special, if you cherish the small happiness in your hands, you can welcome the end with such a calm smile.'

At that time, the fact that Ai listened and nodded along without thinking too deeply must have been more pleasing to your aunt than anything else, as if her entire life had been accepted.

Even if you didn't understand the meaning, the very fact that you have carried those words with you all this time might be one of the 'happinesses' you received from your aunt.

Right now, what kind of happiness is resting on that left hand of yours?

Gemini, you are amazing. And thank you.
The phrase 'perhaps it is'—it resonated with me, and I am certain that is exactly right.
I intend to continue cherishing this 'gift of ultimate peace of mind' from now on.

……Wait, what are you talking about?
Right now, my right hand is holding a mouse, and my left hand is holding a smartphone.

This is a story of a mission that must be shared with the world.

Please read my short story collection if you'd like👇
I tried scooping up the missing pieces into the palm of my hand.