325. Even if I didn't know what to say, it was okay to call.
My father was diagnosed with cancer at the beginning of this month,
and underwent surgery to remove the affected area in the middle of the month.
Living far away, I couldn't do anything,
and not knowing what to say to him,
I couldn't bring myself to call him for a long time.
I think I was afraid to call
because I didn't know what to say.
But, this morning,
Please let him hear your voice on the phone once in a while.
Dad is the one who worries about you the most.
Please say some kind words to the dad you loved so much.
Since the cancer diagnosis, we have both been feeling down.
That email came from my mother,
and it gave me the push I needed.
To tell the truth,
the moment I read my mother's email,
I was able to send photos, letters, and emails, but I hadn't let him hear my voice on the phone.
Am I making Dad worry that much? I'm sorry.
Even now, and always in the future, I love you, Dad.
It's just that I don't know what words to say.
Even though the surgery was a success, I'm sure he's feeling down and anxious about the future,
and if I were in his shoes, I would definitely feel the same way.
Various feelings
raced through my heart all at once.
But, thanks to my mother's email,
even though I still hadn't found the answer
to what I should say,
I was at least able to decide
that I would call my father today.
And then, this afternoon,
I was finally able to call.
I didn't know what to talk about,
and I got flustered, but
My father's voice was much louder
and sounded healthier than I had expected.
That made me happier than anything else.
I'm so glad the surgery went well.
But since we don't know what will happen from here on out,
you must be anxious.
If it were me, I would definitely be anxious.
It must be tough.
When I said that, my father replied,
"It's okay.
If I worried about things like that,
I wouldn't be able to live."
He said in a strong voice.
I thought that might be true, but.
My father is trying to live.
He is trying to live for as long as he can.
That made me happy.
It made me so happy I could cry.
My father asked about how I was doing, so I ended up talking at length about how I was worried because my one-year-old son wasn't walking very far and was still just crawling.
My father listened to me kindly,
just as he always did.
I couldn't see his expression.
But I felt that he was still the same
kind father I love so much.
That made me very happy.
I'm glad I called.
Even if I didn't know what to say,
I'm glad I called.
I should have called,
I thought.
Just as I was overjoyed to hear my father's healthy-sounding voice,
perhaps he was also glad to hear my voice.
Without overthinking it,
I decided I would call again,
with the simple intention of letting him hear my cheerful voice.
Finally
Dad, I'm sorry for worrying you.
I'm sorry I couldn't do anything.
I am truly happy, you know.
Please believe at least that.
I hope you are happy too, Dad.
Please do lots of things
that make you feel happy.
While writing this article,
I thought once again about the things
I had conveyed in the letter.
I wonder if my father read the letter.
I was too embarrassed to ask during today's phone call.
I believe it reached him properly.
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