Feeling the Same Scenery

“I haven't actually looked into it, so
honestly, what's the situation there?
I actually don't know.💦
It's just that...”

It has been a year since I started crossing this bridge.

Even though I have crossed this bridge many times before,
I never felt this way back then.

Last year, I had to transfer my daughter from the pediatric department of the hospital we had been visiting,
as she turned twenty.

Just before she turned twenty,
it was finally decided that a hospital in the neighboring prefecture
would take her in.

Since I live on the prefectural border, even though it is a neighboring prefecture,
the time it takes is not that different from before.

Even if the travel time was manageable,
I was a little anxious about transferring hospitals.

There were no doctors or staff I was familiar with.
Differences in how they handle things, compatibility with the doctor,
and,
the new gazes directed at my daughter's
painful-looking red eyes, as she lies bedridden in her buggy
and no longer closes her eyelids. And so on...

If I started listing them, there would be no end to the things that made me feel uneasy,
but...

Ah, but that's also

only at the beginning.

For some reason, I get used to it right away.
I think that part of me is a strength.

The route to the hospital hasn't changed much.
However, one big difference is that
to go to the neighboring prefecture, I must cross a large river,
using a bridge that is over 900 meters long.
That is a fact.

That bridge was built a few years ago,
replacing the one that was demolished due to deterioration.
It is still very clean, painted white,
and has a somewhat urban atmosphere.

I have crossed it many times before,
but actually, I have never driven across it myself.
For me, it was just a point of passage to my destination,
and nothing more than one of the conditions for going to the neighboring prefecture.

For the first few times after the hospital transfer was decided,
it coincided with my eldest daughter's days off, so she accompanied me.
I have a terrible sense of direction, which was also a source of anxiety, so I was very grateful for my eldest daughter's company. Besides, since her university was in the neighboring prefecture, she knew it very well!
She served as the best navigator.

It took me about five times to finally memorize
a route that wasn't difficult at all.

However, I couldn't keep relying on my eldest daughter. A young woman has her own plans.
Moreover, she has changed jobs now,
and has no days off on weekdays.

Finally, I had to go
on my own.

And so, the day finally came when I headed to the neighboring prefecture
with just my second daughter and me.

The car carrying my second daughter and me
headed toward that magnificent, urban white bridge.

It was sudden.

That day, the moment I reached the bridge,
for some reason, I had a different sensation than usual.



The area in front of me became a tone brighter,
and my field of vision opened up wide.
The sky, which I usually look up at,
felt a little closer than usual while on the bridge.
It was as if that sensation had struck my brain directly.

In the beautiful blue sky,
phoenix-shaped clouds, as if fanned by the wind, were ahead,
and to the left and right, they spread out to envelop the entire sky.
The distant mountains were so vivid that I was reminded once again
that this land is surrounded by mountains.


In the panorama reflected in my eyes,
there was the white bridge continuing endlessly,
and the blue sky closer than ever.
Within it, phoenix clouds spread their magnificent wings,
dancing gracefully.
Surrounded by mountains stretching as far as the eye could see,
and below, the flow of a rich river.
That river, too,
was flowing leisurely through the lush greenery.

Even though the windows aren't open,
I take in a deep breath of fresh air from my nose to the bottom of my lungs,
and I feel it circulating throughout my body.

Ah. What is this feeling?
I never noticed this kind of scenery before.
What a wonderful place this is.

The tension of driving, the anxiety I've felt until now,
this sense of liberation seems to blow it all away somewhere.

While driving, no matter how much I look around at the passing scenery, it feels as if time has stopped,
and I am able to gaze at this view forever.
It is endless.
No matter how far I drive, I never cross the prefecture border.
But I don't feel anxious either.
It's a comfort that even makes me think, I want it to stay like this.

I called out to my daughter,
who was swaying in her buggy at the back of the welfare vehicle.

"Hey... it's amazing. Can you see it? Are you looking?"

I peeked into the rearview mirror to check on her.

In that moment, an "Oh..." escaped my lips.

Was my voice reaching her there?
Or was it not?
Without moving, my second daughter was there, facing to the right as she prefers, with her usual calm expression.

Even though nothing had changed from usual,
at that moment, in my eyes,

it looked as if a goddess was superimposed over my daughter, who was wrapped in bright light.

At that moment, I felt it intuitively, without any basis.

"Ah, this is the scenery my second daughter is seeing."
That's what I thought.

She is showing me the scenery she is feeling right now,
and the feelings she is experiencing.
That's how I felt.

The reason my daughter looked like she was glowing
might be because she was bathing fully in natural light in a place with nothing to block it.

But that gentle light and the expansive scene
are burned into my heart and won't leave me.

Since this event, I have come to love the world
that I can see from this bridge.

My second daughter is also enjoying our drives together.
We feel the same scenery in our hearts and share it with each other.
Saying, "This time feels so good!"

Yesterday, on this road I've become completely used to,
while listening to my favorite CD on this bridge,
"Hey, it really feels good, doesn't it?"
as we talked to each other,

I crossed it a little slowly.

"...Ultimately, I sometimes think it doesn't matter either way.
Of course, I spend my days feeling like she can see and hear.
Maybe she can't see, maybe she can't hear. If we had her properly tested,
that might be the result, right?
...But, since that day, I feel like my second daughter has changed her way of feeling
and her way of communicating.
It feels like her ability to sense things through the atmosphere is exceptionally sharp.
Because, you know, when I'm away and then return, she always makes a rattling sound from her trachea,
as if to say, 'I've been waiting for you!!'

and asks for suction! Haha!
Everyone is surprised!
'Wow! Did you hold it in until Mom came home? Were you being considerate? Hahaha! You're relieved that I'm back, aren't you!' 😂
Somehow,
the way she communicates like that,
...it's just unbearably cute, isn't it?♡"