I'll see you soon

Yesterday, my wife and I went to visit my mother for the first time in a week.

When my wife called out, "Mom," my mother slowly opened her eyes, and as soon as she saw us, she suddenly burst into tears and said this.

"You came to see me... I thought I wouldn't be able to go home anymore. Thank you."

Saying that, my mother broke down in tears.

The moment I saw her like that, an indescribable feeling welled up deep in my chest.

For my mother, does coming to the hospital mean,
"My death is drawing near"
that she has to prepare herself for that?

That thought crossed my mind.

Before the visit, I heard about my mother's condition from the nurse.

She is eating well.
However, because her immune system is weak, viruses have entered her body, and she occasionally runs a fever.
Currently, bacteria have been detected in her urine, which is causing swelling in her right leg.

Even so, they said that if she continues treatment a little longer and her condition improves, she is scheduled to be discharged on the 11th.

However, even when I explain that, my mother forgets it immediately.

So, I wrote it in large letters in a notebook again and showed it to her.

"Today is the 7th. If you work hard at the hospital for three more days, you can go home.
Let's spend time at home together, the five of us: the great-grandchild, the grandchild, and us, the couple."

My mother, while staring at those words over and over,

"I can really go home..."

She said that, repeating it many times with tears in her eyes.

My son in Tokyo couldn't come home because of work.

So, we connected a video call,

"Mom, I heard you can be discharged. Congratulations."

He said that to her.

My mother asked me over and over, "When are you coming?"

I suppose she just wants to see her own son.

A few minutes after hanging up the phone,

"When is my son coming?"

she asks the same thing again.

"We just talked on the phone, remember? It's a weekday, so he's at work."

Even when I explain that, we repeat the same conversation.

Still, even those exchanges feel like precious time to me now.

When I showed her a picture of her great-grandchild,

"What a good child. They'll grow up to be someone fine."

she said, her eyes crinkling with joy.

Then, my mother said quietly,

"I know I'll be a burden when I come home, but please take care of me."

That is what she said.

I replied,

"Just having you come home is enough. Your presence alone gives us all hope."

As I told her that, I applied anti-itch cream to her legs and back.

As I brushed her hair and slowly massaged her back and shoulders, the visiting time flew by in an instant.

At home, my daughter is waiting with the baby.

So, I have to go back to them soon.

The day before yesterday, my daughter was quietly looking out at the garden from the window where the spring sunlight was streaming in.

Red and pink flowers were in bloom, and small baby clothes were lined up on the balcony.

Inside the room, my daughter and her husband were preparing milk and baby supplies, and my wife was holding and soothing the baby.

The moment I saw that casual scene, I suddenly thought.

Until now, my daughter had been living desperately in the crowded city of Tokyo, chased by work and time, while carrying a child.

I think the people around her were also doing their best just to get by in their own lives, and surely didn't have much room to spare to look after my daughter, who was pregnant.

However, it was different here.

When she was hospitalized for childbirth, not only the nurses but many other people also spoke to her with concern.

After that, my mother's condition worsened and she was hospitalized.

My daughter also finally finished giving birth after a difficult delivery.

Having overcome such a long time, now, a quiet spring scene is spreading throughout the house.

My daughter said softly,

"I'm happy right now."

I felt like I understood a little why she said that.

Right now, my daughter and my wife have gone to the hospital for the baby's checkup.

If both my mother and the baby's conditions improve, in three days, the two of them will meet at our home.

I can't wait for that moment.

Both of you, I'll see you soon.

Hang in there.