The Communication Book is a Collection of Essays

"What is 'history'?"

It happened at the breakfast table when the topic of the weather came up.
I was talking about how this December has had continuous clear winter skies and record-breaking sunshine hours, when my second son (5 years old) jumped into the conversation.

"Well, 'history' is, you know. That, um, it's like things connected from the past, or human activities, or like the whole volume zone of that."

"What is 'the past'?"

"No, well, so, I mean, it means things from before now..."

We were supposed to be having a lively chat about the weather, but the dining table had somehow turned into the venue for thePoor Explainer Championship. A competition by me, for me, and only for me.

I always win by a landslide. Breaking things down to explain them is so difficult. How wonderful it would be if I could give a sharp, clear explanation at times like this.

While watching the match, my second son thought about something for a moment. Then, his eyes suddenly lit up, and he declared this.

"…So, you mean it's a 'legend'?"

No, it's not about legends or anything like that.
He's close, but the direction is different.

I wanted to try one more round to explain the difference between history, the past, and legends, but when I looked at the clock, the time limit was approaching. It's a shame, but that's it for now. Feeling guilty about ending it halfway, I glossed over it by saying,"Well, something like that!"

While urging my laid-back kids to eat faster, my mind kept replaying the exchange with my second son.

"History and the past are legends," huh...

I see the kids off. It's about time to start work, but I want to at least finish the dishes. While washing plates in the kitchen, I think about another important ritual. The nursery school communication book.

This thing has quite a lot of volume.

Due to the app's design, I can't carry over the previous day's entries or the content from my other child's entries. Even though the goal is to facilitate smooth cooperation with the nursery, just thinking about entering information for two kids makes me exhausted.

However, the final comment section is different.

The chaos of the 'terrible twos,' the unique things only children say, their misunderstandings. A word that catches you off guard, or a moment where you feel their growth. All those precious scenes you never want to forget—the comment section, where I capture and record these lovely moments of daily life in short sentences, is the only oasis while filling out the contact book.

I immediately type the legendary anecdote into the comment section.

The moment I pressed the send button, I suddenly thought it resembled something.
The act of taking an impressive scene and conveying it through my own interpretation feels strangely familiar.

—That's right, it's an essay.

Contact books are like essays.

They are highlights of daily life.
No matter the subject, they are filtered through one's own observations.
You adjust the focus while being conscious of who you are telling and what you want to convey.

The original role of the contact book comment section is, of course, different from an essay, but the starting point is the same. Both share what is important when writing.

The contact book is not just for recording and sharing, but a place to observe daily life more deeply. Aren't we all natural essayists just by living, cherishing the smallness of our daily lives?

How many precious moments have I left behind in these past eight years? When I pull out past contact books, I find that many seeds for essays have spilled out from them.

[Eldest Son]

[Second Son]

What's important is not to miss the moments when your heart is moved. And to put them into words in your own way. Repeating that makes life all the more precious.

I want to write again next year. I want to keep writing. To enjoy my daily life even more.
If there is someone out there who can empathize with me or laugh along with me because of it, there is nothing that would make me happier.

[back number]
#1 Pudding, my husband, and Shuzo
#2 Heartbreak at 1.0x speed
#3 The wreckage of "being myself"
#4 The pressure of making a bento
#5 The post-cleaning dilemma
#6 Maybe my housework ran away from home
#7 The great actress born from a crisis