A 42-year-old cries over school lunch.

"It's delicious, isn't it?"

When I say that,

"It's delicious, isn't it?"

my son smiles and says. I never imagined that at this age, the day would come when I'd be eating school lunch with my son.
I never thought I'd be able to eat a meal while talking to my son, who hasn't been able to go to school lately and is glued to YouTube even while eating at home.

I never expected to have my son teach me how to wash a milk carton, or to discover a new side of him who doesn't even clear his own plate at home.

There's nothing to do but cry at this.

Yesterday, a music recital was held at my son's elementary school.
It's the biggest event of the school year, where each grade performs instrumental and choral pieces for the parents.

My son has been absent from every event he would have normally participated in until last year.
He's in the fourth grade now, and since June, he has only been to school once.

He spent the sports day at home.

So I thought he'd be home for the music recital too, but suddenly he said, "Maybe I'll go."

I mustn't get too happy or impatient here.
I acted calm and told him, "You can decide what to do on the morning of," while secretly coordinating the arrangements with his teacher.

The morning of the day before, I got a call from the school to confirm his attendance.

My son's answer was, "I'm not going after all."

But I didn't give up yet.
That night, I waited for the right moment and asked, "Will you go if I come with you?" to which he replied, "In that case, I'll go."

Yes!

And then, the morning of the event.
He's in a good mood.
This is a sign that we can go without any trouble.

We actually left the house smoothly and arrived behind the gymnasium at the time specified by the teacher.
They told me that if we timed it just after the parents had finished entering, we could slip in without drawing attention.

I am very grateful for their consideration, but it feels a bit unsettling, like a celebrity watching in disguise.

I was shown to a small room on the second floor by the side of the stage where the sound equipment is kept.

They told me that from here, I could watch my friend without worrying about the eyes of others.

Then the music recital began.

Listening to the first graders sing 'Ningen tte Ii na' (It's Good to be Human), I found myself crying unexpectedly.

Ah, it's been a long time since I've heard the lively voices of children.

Perhaps I wasn't mentally prepared either.

I didn't realize it would be this painful to think that my own child isn't on that side.

However, it seemed like the perfect distance for my son to listen to the performances, and he remained calm throughout each grade's presentation.

When his classmates appeared, he was pacing around the small room, restless.

'Hey! What should I do if they notice me?'

He said, and as he peeked down cautiously, it seemed he made eye contact with a friend who happened to be looking up.

'Oh no! They saw me! What should I do!'

He was so excited. The fact that he was able to watch without any negative emotions was the best part.

I thought we would leave after the fourth-grade performance, but he said he wanted to stay until the sixth-grade performance and go home with his best friend.

We consulted with the teacher on the spot, and it was decided that he could eat school lunch in a separate room after the recital and wait until his friend finished school.

'Dad doesn't have school lunch, so can I go home first?''Don't go home.''I guess so.'And so, it was decided that I would endure hunger while watching my son eat.

◇◇◇When we finally went to the separate room, the teacher must have felt sorry for me, as they prepared school lunch for two.The main dish was salmon chan-chan yaki.Rice topped with nori tsukudani.Vegetable soup.

The school lunch I had for the first time in 30 years was surprisingly delicious.
Looking at my son next to me, he usually takes 30 minutes to make any progress, but today he finished it in just 10 minutes.

“That was delicious, wasn't it?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“I'm glad we could eat together, Dad.”

“Thank you. I don't get opportunities like this, so I was happy.”

Sitting in front of a delicious meal, we were able to honestly share our feelings with each other.

Thinking about how it took a lot of support from the teachers, and above all, my son's own hard work to reach this moment, I started to cry again.

I stood up and walked around the classroom so my son wouldn't notice my tears.

When I looked back, I saw my son's satisfied expression, which made me happy all over again.

◇◇◇

When it was time to leave school, my son met up with his close friends, but he was also called out to by many other classmates.

“Hey! Long time no see! You should come to school more often!!”

“Oh, it's [Name]! Long time no see! Hey, would you rather have curry that tastes like poop or poop that tastes like curry? Hey, if you were reborn, would you rather be a bowling pin or a ball?”

“Oh, [Name], you were here! Why don't you come to school? You better come next week!”

My kid is actually managing his friendships just fine.
My tear ducts are acting up again...

I was so happy to hear the kids calling out to him that I felt like hugging each one of them, but I held back because I would have been arrested.

Still, I felt truly grateful to the kids who told him to come to school. My son wouldn't even make eye contact, perhaps out of shyness, but it was clearly written on his face that he was happy.

I don't know if anything will actually change for my son starting next week.
Even so, seeing my son eating a little more than before and laughing more often makes me hopeful again.