🎁 for Panda Gorogoro-san

“I feel like I’ll never be able to beat my mother, no matter how long I live.”

I talk to my husband, whom I registered my marriage with a year ago, while eating breakfast in a slightly sun-drenched room.
We are having breakfast together.

Yesterday was the dinner party where our parents met for the first time.
Today is finally the wedding day.
Even on a morning that should feel nerve-wracking like this,
I am able to eat breakfast just like any other day.
I’m certain that thisthick-skinnedside of me is something I inherited from my mother.

“That’s just how it is. In every family.”

Even though it’s the morning of our wedding,
he is as laid-back as ever.
Thinking to myself that he’s quite a bold person,
I let my thoughts drift idly to yesterday’s events.

A little before the dinner party where our parents met for the first time,
seeing my mother appear without a hint of nervousness,
and my father acting like a fish out of water,
I felt anxious, thinking, “Will this be okay? 💦”
but that’s a secret.

Although she had her ‘going-out’ face on (including makeup),
my mother’s chatter was as lively and well-paced as ever.
She spoke with just the right amount of distance,
as if it weren’t the first time meeting his parents at all.
I wish that conversational skill had been passed down to me, too.

Whether to lighten the mood,
or to get a laugh,
she had no trouble sharing embarrassing stories from my childhood,
or making relentless jokes at my quiet father’s expense.

It was fine because he and his parents laughed,
but I gave her a small nudge with my elbow,
thinking, ‘Did you really have to reveal that much?’
Of course, she pretended not to notice.

When I was little, my mother was always busy with work,
she would pick me up from after-school care at the very last minute,
and even after getting home, she would run around the house,
rushing through the chores.

When she had some free time,
my mother was the most fun person to talk to.
I would get drawn into her stories,
and end up just listening the whole time.

“Dad’s reactions are lackluster,
so it’s more fun talking to my daughter,”
she would say with a happy laugh.
I laughed too, at such a typical thing for her to say.

With a single remark of “You have more free time than I do,”
setting up smartphones, transferring data,
online shopping,
and finding highly-rated cosmetics on reviews,
have all become my responsibility before I knew it.

To my mother, who pays me back for advanced payments down to the last yen,
I would playfully ask for a “service fee,”
and going to eat Baskin Robbins together was so much fun.

Last year, she was suddenly invited by someone she met on note,
and went to a Kimimaro live show together.
I was surprised to see how her circle of friends had grown.

She still seems busy with work,
but even after I started living with him,
I’m happy that my mother is enjoying herself.

“She’s the most energetic and cheerful person in our family,”
I’ve told him that more than once or twice.

I also remember him kindly saying,
“She’s a person with drive who really enjoys life.”

When I told her about the dinner party,
I panicked when she said,
“Isn’t a meeting between parents unnecessary at this point?”
She’s the type of person who clearly states what she doesn’t like,
so my heart raced, worried she might say she wasn’t going.

“We’re becoming family with his parents, too,
so it’s better if we can get along with each other.
I think it’s important to meet and talk.”

When I tried to persuade her,

“I can tell that [Husband's Name]-kun’s parents are kind people,
without having to go to a dinner party for every little thing.
Besides, it doesn’t have to be the day before the wedding...”

To my mother, who was still grumbling,
I finally put my hands together and said, “Please!!”
and got her to agree.

The dinner party led by my mother ended safely,
and I walked home with him, feeling relieved.
A LINE notification from my mother chimed on my phone.

I cried.

I can't take it anymore.

My mother is really something.

When I showed my smartphone to my boyfriend, who was worried about me suddenly tearing up, he slowly followed the text with his eyes, then gave me a soft, happy smile.

Once more.
I read it over slowly,
and laughed at the final 🐼.
She said on note that she was a 🐼.
I chuckled and let out a soft breath.

To make me cry with a LINE message the day before my wedding.

Maybe it was my mother's way of being considerate,
trying to make sure I wouldn't cry on the day itself.

I'll cool my eyes before I go to sleep,
so they won't be puffy tomorrow morning.

And on the morning of the wedding, there was another LINE message from my mother.

“I painted my nails beautifully so they’ll look great when I lower your veil,
so don't you worry!”

Oh, I wasn't worried about that at all!!

“A child is a mirror of their parent, and a parent is a model for their child”

I am proud to be my mother's daughter,
and today, I am getting married.

Because I am my mother's daughter, I will be fine.
For the first time in my life, I said that to myself.

(The End)

Panda Gorogoro's poem for the Tsurukame Cup

Summer departs in the shadow of a pure white veil

This is a story about a gift that wasn't finished on the day.

I wrote this with my imagination running wild.
(The episode is also fictional)

I imagine it might be different from the real Panda-san and her daughter, but

please accept it if you'd like (*'▽')ノ

Since I've only written a handful of stories, I'm sure there were many parts that were hard to read.
Thank you for reading my clumsy story to the end❣

💖 A wonderful thank you has arrived from Panda Gorogoro-san.

It even includes a letter from her daughter that made me cry my eyes out (^^♪

Instead of just a chain of kindness,
I feel like it's become an infinite loop 💖

Thank you so much, Panda-san❣