344. Touched Something Beautiful

My parents came over today and it was good to see especially my mother, and there was a sense of good spirits, but also a strange feeling of … being closer to the edge. My mother survived a second bout of cancer so far and will have to decide on follow up chemo in a few days’ time “just to be sure” – or not. For how can anyone be sure – about what will happen?

Whatever the case, it was good to see them and the happiness in their eyes as they held little Jay.

I have not much more to say on that for now, because I would rather post this little piece which will be the start of a new novella-series, interconnected and never-ending, like my Shade of the Morning Sun-stories.

Here it is …

Aomori Blues

The funny thing about my home city isn’t that it’s there, but that I can’t imagine it being not there. It is not a particularly interesting city, or well-known but regardless of that it is the most important city in the world in so many ways. But to me only.

I thought about that as I went to the market today to find something interesting for supper, to bring back so my mother could cook and get help from my daughter who luckily has not grown too old for such things. She is still roaming the house and the gardens now, finding some sprite or fairy of her own or just tucking away with her cell phone. That was a much better prospect than going shopping with  mum, although she is also good at that. In so many ways …

A little detour on to the harbor promenade was what I needed. I am looking north, towards Hokkaido, and there are quite a few sail boats skirting the dark blue autumn sea this fine morning. All is as it should be. I have put on some of the casuals I like best, including my faux leather pants and a woolly shirt but nothing too conspicuous. I don’t need to be conspicuous today. In fact, it is a relief that I don’t need it.

Sometimes I wish it was like this every day but only for a few moments. Then I get a deep fear of what would happen if it were truly so: That I was unknown. That there were no cameras …

And that is as far as I got before reality intervened. But at least I touched on something beautiful.