a mother's lullaby

When I woke up, Oikawa was already gone. Even the sun was still resting below the horizon. His belongings were still here. Oikawa left a note by my bed:

Iwa-chan,

I've got older brother duties to attend to (out-of-the-blue sister issues; it happens). Nothing to worry about though. I'll be back tomorrow, and I have something planned out for us. I'll see you then!

Love,

Your-favorite-kawa

I sighed in disappointment. It might just be twenty-four hours without him, but it meant that we lost a night of secret-telling. However, there was something else I had to do. It was my silver lining, the reason I gave myself to come home, and I couldn't go back to Tokyo without knowing what he'd written for me.

I rummaged through my box of childhood knick-knacks. I shifted through old key chains, athletic awards, and schoolroom valentine's day cards until I found it: my grandpa's letter box. It was old and dusty. The leather was falling apart, but that didn't matter. It would forever stay in my life as my most priceless possession.

I took out the sealed envelope. It contained words I'd never read before.

Open when you are lost. -Ojiisan

I stuffed the letter into my jacket pocket, and I tip-toed downstairs, careful not to wake my parents up. Right as I touched the doorknob, my mother's voice broke the early silence.

"Hajime?" she called out from the living room. She'd been sleeping there, staying up all night grading her students' papers. "It's so early. Where are you going?"

I thought about it. "The pond. I want to catch the sunrise."

"Hm, okay." She slipped back into her blanket. "Don't be out too late, okay?"

"Yeah, I won't."

I stepped into the sleepy haze of dusk. The world was at its best before the morning chatter erupts, when we're all floating in our respective dreams. I felt powerful knowing that I was roaming a world while others were still fast asleep. However, something was off. With every footstep away from my house, my mother's voice rang in my head, louder and louder. Hajime, it was the way she called out my name, as if I was doing something wrong, like a foolish child.

I sat on a bench by the pond, facing east and waiting for the sun to rise. I held my grandfather's letter, and slowly, I opened it. The tear of the envelope reminded me of the ephemeral, temporality nature of our morality. These words are stained onto paper, but his soul was elsewhere. I didn't know what I would do once all of his letters were all opened and read. I imagined that my soul would evaporate into the wind, leaving nothing but that letter box behind. Would I disappear with his words?

My grandfather's handwriting was bold and inky. Intense black ink deepened every brushstroke. It looked as if the words could've seeped through the Earth's dark soil.

Hajime,

My sweet one, always the gentle grandson. I see you've opened this letter. This one was written for when you feel lost, so right now, you must be feeling a lot of emotions.

You know, when I was a boy, I once fell into an empty well. It was filthy, covered in spiderwebs and dirt. For hours, I yelled and yelled, thinking that I would die. After a long time, I gave up. No, giving up is the wrong word. I simply took some time to rest. I crawled into a corner and took a long nap.

Then, it was your Obaasan's voice that woke me up while I least expected it. I looked up. Her face blocked the burning sun. In that moment, she looked like the sun with sunbeams radiating from her head. Your Obaasan brought a rope with her, and slowly, I used it to climb my way back to the top. Once out of the well, she brushed the dirt off my clothes, and we looked back down into the bottomless terrain. What I found out is that, from up above, it wasn't as deep and treacherous as I'd remembered. I was almost embarrassed for being trapped for so long, but your Obaasan gave me a kiss on the cheek. Maybe, all this time, she was my knight in shining armor.

The chasm feels endless when you are lost in the bottom. Sometimes, it feels as if you're floating through a void. Every once in a while, it feels as if you'll be trapped forever. However, you're not. That rope will come when you least expect it... when you're napping... or when you're just about to give up. It will come with sunlight and a hopeful smile. Sometimes, even some words of encouragement.

Hajime, what is on that mind of yours? Something big must be going on because you always play it cool. You like to pretend that everything is fine: a boy who "doesn't care"... but I know that soul a bit better than that. Once you take off your shield, you are such a sensitive boy. You love so deeply. You care so deeply... and that is why life can sometimes feel so painful.

You are not lost. You never will be. You are just on a detour. You are just battling the storm.

It'll pass.

I wish I could be there to help you, but I'm long gone by the time you're reading this. Don't be sad. You're a big kid now, and big kids don't need their grandfathers to hold their hands while they dance in the rain. So, go! Go dance in the rain! You may be dancing alone, and at times, this will make you feel lost, but my words are with you. I love you, my sweet grandson.

Sincerely,

Ojiisan

Tears fell onto his letter. The droplets turned his words and sentences into a Rorschach inkblot test. I watched my own sadness damage the paper and his handwritten brushstrokes. No, please no. I packed it back into the envelope and pocket. Then, I cried into my rough hands.

When the sun appeared, I'd run out of tears to cry.

I felt so lost, but I couldn't even tell you why. People are all we've got in life, and yet, I'd always felt so alone. I flunked out of school, my jobs, and relationships. I spent my nights making drinks for people who reminded me too much of what could happen if I stayed like this forever. I'd been a horrible son for so many years. I wounded myself with people, and people had a tendency to wound me. I just never got it right, no matter how hard I tried. Would Ojiisan be proud of me? If he saw the loneliness chiseling away at me? Would he still love me?

_____

"You need to get rid of your old things," my mother complained, over and over, as she poked through my closet. I rolled my eyes and lifted my copy of East of Eden over my face.

She soon got tired of sorting out my belongings and fell asleep in my armchair. A pile of unfolded bed sheets and fresh laundry covered her like a blanket. I watched my mother sleep. Gray strands covered her head. The last time I saw her, her locks were jet black and healthy. Now, a new river of wrinkles streamed around her eyes and smile lines. The woman sleeping on the armchair was curled into a ball of gentleness. It was almost as if a single touch could shatter her fragile, porcelain mold. She was no longer the tiger mom who loomed over my life for so many tumultuous years. It was almost as if she was an entirely different person.

It made me sad. I'd ignored the passing of time for so many years, and now, I didn't know how to approach this new person. While she slept, I kissed my mother's forehead before heading off for a long walk into the night.

When I came back, my mother was also gone.

_____

I was in my bed when my mother knocked on my door. It was so gentle and quiet. I almost didn't hear it. "Hajime," she whispered.

I didn't reply. I pretended to be asleep. She slipped into my bed, slowly wrapping her small arms around mine. I shut my eyes, not wanting her to see that I was awake.

My mother touched her face against my back. "I don't say this to you very often," she whispered like a mama bear in the night, "but I want you to know that I love you. I love you, Hajime. I am proud of you. I will love you forever. Until the day I vanish."

Then, she sang a simple melody. It was a Japanese nursery song that she would sing to me as a child. I saw myself as a small boy; my mother with black hair and a young smile.

When the song was over, I reached out for her hand, and I held it near my heart. Her hands were small and rough. My mother sighed. It was filled with relief. We didn't speak to each other. We simply hummed in harmony to the next lullaby. Every note made up for lost time. I became an innocent child again, sleeping in his mother's arms. I wondered what it must have felt like to hold me. I'd grown over six feet tall. Most mothers would be proud of their sons for growing up so strong. Yet, I knew that all she wanted was for me to shrink back into my seven-year-old self... to fall asleep to her hymns.

We both cried, but... for the first time in years, I understood my mother's love. It felt so nice to be loved again.