On a Spring Day Thinking of My Mother

When this time of year comes around, I feel a slight prick in the depths of my heart.

It is because I remember the time when my mother's condition worsened and she was hospitalized.

My mother, who was battling cancer, passed away on April 28th.
I still remember that spring clearly.

"When I get better, let's go see the Miharu cherry blossoms."

That was the promise we made.

I wanted to go see those large, beautiful cherry blossoms that had lived for such a long time together with her.
That promise still shines gently within me.

She underwent radiation therapy to stop the bleeding, and after that, we placed our hopes in a newly approved drug.

That medicine felt like a final ray of hope for both my mother and our family.

However, the reality was harsh.

Due to her overall condition and declining physical strength, it became difficult to fight against the momentum of the cancer.

The time for treatment did not last as long as I had hoped.

So that she would not suffer.
So that she could be as peaceful as possible.

Wishing for that, I requested sedation to lower her consciousness.

And a few days later, my mother passed away quietly in her hospital room.

The moment her heart stopped,
I still cannot forget it.

Even as time passes,
my regrets never reach zero.

Could I have done more?
Could I have said something different?

Such thoughts still surface from time to time.


Right now, there is a 70-year-old person receiving home care for lung cancer.

Their gentle smile sometimes overlaps with my mother's.

When I asked about their wishes during today's visit,

they said, "I want to walk in the garden."
The cherry blossom forecast had just been announced in the Kanto region.

However, the cherry blossoms in their garden

seemed to be still a little way off.
At that moment, they said quietly,

"I wonder if I will live until then."
Those words
overlapped with the words my mother once spoke.

Deep in my heart,
memories from that time quietly resurfaced.

I did not deny it.
I simply said,

"Let's declare the blooming of these cherry blossoms together."

I cannot guarantee the future.
However,
I can look at today together with them.

Without rushing to see if they will bloom,

I can wait for spring right here.
That was my feeling.

Spring is said to be a season of encounters and beginnings, but
it is also a season that reminds us of partings and loss.
While looking up at the cherry blossoms,

sometimes I remember the people I want to see.
I believe it is only natural

to have days when my heart aches a little.
The cherry blossoms I wanted to see with my mother.

The cherry blossoms my mother wanted to see.
And the cherry blossoms that someone in front of me now wishes to see.

I will continue to carry my past regrets, but I want to cherish the support I can provide now.
I want to quietly continue the nursing care that only I, having known sorrow, can provide.

The cherry blossom season has come again this year.

While remembering my mother each time,

I want to spend the spring by someone's side.

Thank you for staying with me until the end today,
thank you very much🙂‍↕️