The Wind That Carried Invisible Time

*This article is an entry for the #ChibiCreativeAward.
It is a story born from Shizuku Amano's theme, '#Wind'.

Wind

"Let's try not to compare ourselves to others."

"If you must compare, compare yourself to who you were yesterday."

I sometimes share these words with my clients.

Everyone has a different upbringing and carries different burdens than others.

There is no need to blame yourself by comparing only the parts you can see.

I had intended to cherish those words myself as well.

However, the other day, a wind blew through my heart that could not be settled by such words alone.

My daughter and her husband moved into a new home.

It is the beginning of a new life.

As a parent, it was a happy event.

When I spoke with my daughter previously, I had said,

"I will coordinate the housewarming gift with your mother-in-law."

I told her.

Each parent would send a gift of roughly the same value.

I had envisioned such a scene.

However, what I heard from my daughter over the phone was much larger than what I had imagined.

In that moment, I could not find the words.

I think I was surprised.

However, it wasn't just surprise.

Envy.

Frustration.

Embarrassment.

No matter which word I applied, it felt like it was slightly off.

The other mother also raised her child on her own.

What's more, she is the same age as me.

Perhaps that is why I couldn't help but think it.

Even though we should have both worked just as hard.

Why was I unable to do the same for my own child?

Sometimes, the other mother and I go out together as a group of five, including my daughter's family and my grandchild, Naachin.

When we go out together, we talk happily.

Once,

It's nice that we can brag about Naachin to each other without it sounding unpleasant,

we had said.

To Naachin, we are both in the same position.

Even if one of us says,

Look at what she can do now,

or, She was so cute the other day too,

it doesn't feel like we are competing.

Truly, both of us are happy in the same way.

Even though we are not blood-related, we both cherish the same child and can feel the same joy.

I was happy about that fact.

Perhaps it was precisely because of that relationship that I couldn't fully process the turmoil that arose within me that day.

Her mother is still alive and well, living with her brother's family, farming and making homemade miso.

What kind of support existed between parent and child, or between siblings?

How have they managed to sustain their lives?

I don't know the truth of it.

Even so, in an instant, I thought about many things.

The fact that there are people who support you.

The fact that family life continues.

The fact that there are things that have been passed down.

Beyond the celebration in front of me, I was imagining years I had never seen.

And along with those years, I saw my own time as well.

Could I have done it too?

Could I have prepared for the same day, even if only a little at a time?

Usually,

"It couldn't be helped"

is something I can think.

At that time, I had my own circumstances.

Keeping up with daily life.

Raising children.

Working.

Finishing the day.

There were days when that alone was all I could manage.

In my head, I understand.

But on that day,

"It couldn't be helped"

was not enough to let it pass.

Was there really nothing I could have done?

Had I not given up somewhere on the effort to become capable?

Could I not have continued with the small, steady steps?

Such questions spread quietly within my heart.

Even while talking to my daughter on the phone, I realized my heart was wavering.

Perhaps she sensed something, too.

Even so, neither of us touched upon it deeply.

"That's wonderful"

"I'm so grateful"

Choosing words like these, I feel as though we were both trying to pretend that something there didn't exist.

I just wanted to be happy for my daughter's new life.

I didn't want to burden you with unnecessary feelings.

I wanted to end the conversation about the celebration while it was still warm.

That feeling was also true.

However, after I hung up the phone,

the room suddenly became quiet.

The desire to celebrate my daughter.

Gratitude toward her mother-in-law.

The shame of not being able to do the same for her.

The regret that I might have made my daughter feel uneasy.

The loneliness I couldn't put into words.

It wasn't just one of these; it was all of them.

After that, I learned the truth.

The celebration that day was not something her mother-in-law had spent many years preparing.

It seems it was money that my daughter's husband had entrusted to his mother when he was single.

“Ah, so that’s how it was.”

That is what I thought.

Part of me felt a little relieved.

At the same time, I felt ashamed.

Without knowing the facts, I had imagined a long period of time on my own.

Perhaps I had been comparing us on my own, and getting hurt on my own.

However, strangely enough, even after I realized the facts were different, the heartache of that day did not disappear.

I wonder why.

As I thought about it, I began to see something a little more clearly.

I think what made me suffer wasn't just the scale of the celebration.

"What have I been able to leave for my daughter?"

It was because I had touched upon that question.

The heart sometimes creates a story before the facts.

It layers past memories, wishes that were meant to be fulfilled, and regrets that have not yet been put into words onto the events right in front of us.

The time I envisioned in an instant was not a fact.

However, the heart of mine that created that story was real.

While imagining someone else's background, I was looking at the time I felt I hadn't been able to accumulate.

While comparing myself to someone else, I was actually asking myself.

Could I have done more?

Wasn't there more I wanted to do for her?

That day, what the wind carried was not that mother's time.

It might have been the time I had tucked away deep in my heart.

I still cannot put this event into beautiful words.

"It couldn't be helped."

Or,

"You can just do what you can from now on."

I cannot say that for sure, not yet.

If I were to sum it up like that, I feel like I would be rushing to tidy away the regret and loneliness I felt after hanging up the phone with my daughter.

I, who had told her not to compare herself to others, ended up comparing her myself.

On a day of celebration, I felt a sense of sadness.

I created a story different from the facts and let my heart be swayed within that story.

All of that is within me now.

The wind that carried invisible time has not yet passed through me.

However, in the quiet room after hanging up the phone, I only want to write down today that my heart was indeed shaken.

Related Articles and Information

🌿 About the Chibi Creative Awards

This article is an entry for the #ChibiCreativeAwards.

I wrote this for Shizuku Amano's theme, "#Wind".

Thank you for such a wonderful project.

📌 Click here for the Chibi Creative Awards project article

📌 Click here for Shizuku Amano's "Wind" booth

The other day, I wrote for Kakerun's theme, "#WhereTheHeartResides".

📌 Click here for Kakerun's project and related articles

📌 Click here for the "#WhereTheHeartResides" articles

🌿 6,000 Followers Thank You Project | Reader voting is now open 😌💞

Six stories of self-understanding born from the 6,000 followers thank you project.

We are currently accepting votes to select the "Reader's Award".

It is not about deciding who is the best,

but a time for you to share the scenery that has remained in your heart.

I would also be happy if you could leave behind what you felt while reading the article or any words you would like to send to the writer.

📌 Click here for the reader voting article

🌿 To those whose hearts felt a little more relaxed after reading

Since you have read this far,

perhaps you have started to pause and look within yourself,

to see if there were stories created before the facts.

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Perhaps today, a
yet-unnamed “wind” is also gently passing through your heart.

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