Visiting the Grave on the Day of the Half Moon

I went to visit the grave this morning. Since I didn't have any insect repellent, I applied Young Living eucalyptus essential oil directly to my skin. The grave is located in the mountains, a place where striped mosquitoes full of vitality live, but they seemed to dislike this scent so much that I didn't see a single one. I didn't even hear the buzzing of mosquitoes.

The grave is Shinto-style, so we usually bring water and 'osago'—which is just the uncooked white rice we eat at home—to offer. However, since it gets eaten and scattered by wild boars and masked palm civets, we only bring water now. Standing in front of the grave, which my brother-in-law and sister-in-law had beautifully maintained, I felt for the first time that I, too, am being watched over by the ancestors of this family. It's been 12 years since I got married (sweat).

I was one of those people who really didn't want to give up my 'surname' from my parents' home—my maiden name—so I felt the hurdle of registering my marriage was quite high. Even now, I feel an extraordinary sense of identity with my father's family line. Because of that, I have always felt like a guest in my husband's family, and whenever I came to the grave, I would only ask them to please watch over my husband and son. It was as if I were only using my husband's surname for convenience.

But before I knew it, my late parents-in-law had become among the people I love most. When I think of them, my heart warms. Funny and amusing memories come back to me. And the blood that does not flow through me has been passed down to my son. Did it really take this much time for me to feel that this is something gentle and something to be grateful for?

Today is the day of the first quarter moon. It is a day of momentum. From here, it will continue to wax toward the full moon. May my feelings of gratitude toward my ancestors continue comfortably like this, past the full moon and all the way to the equinox.