Bon—In the Midst of the Heat | Kikuko Ota (Dean, Faculty of Nursing and Medical Care)
July 21, 2010
As soon as the rainy season ended, a heatwave with scorching hot days began. I noticed the crape myrtle flowers swaying in the wind and realized that it was truly summer, and of course, it was hot. The Bon season is a time when we feel a nostalgic closeness to our departed loved ones.
I remember as a child asking my grandfather, who was born in the Meiji era, what happens to people when they die. He replied, "I think that when a person's body dies and disappears, their soul continues to live on." When I asked him where the soul goes, he said, "Look, I'm sure they are watching us from a place like under the eaves." At the time, I found it a bit creepy, but now I am certain that it is true.
Later, my grandfather, who lived to be 100, said, "Now that I've lived this long, I don't wish to live any longer. I have no desires. I feel happy to have come this far and am grateful to everyone. I think few people can feel this way. It's best to do nothing, to remain as I am, in a natural state. Not forcing things is the best way." When I ventured to ask him what it's like to die, he calmly told me, "I wonder if, in the end, it's like falling asleep and not waking up. That would be nice. Since I won't wake up, I'll say my thanks for everything now." And truly, his end was just as he described—a peaceful passing in his sleep.
However, not everyone is able to have such a peaceful end. It is difficult to fathom the thoughts of the deceased, and those who see them off are often plagued by various regrets. The shock of loss is so great that one can become bound by thoughts of "I should have done this" or "I should have done that." As time gradually eases these feelings, one becomes able to talk about various memories.
Dr. Ryota Hosoya, a pediatrician who has worked with children with cancer, says, "Parting with a loved one is painful. The sorrow of parents who have lost their beloved child is immeasurable. As parents connect through support groups and begin to recover and recall their children with brightness, the quality of their tears changes. The loved one continues to live on in the hearts of those left behind."
The same is true for pets, who are like family. Pets communicate various things not through words, but through their expressions, the way they cry out, and their overall demeanor. Because their expressions are not verbal, I believe it requires an even greater effort to understand what they are trying to say—an act that necessitates phronesis, a practical wisdom that is the very essence of care. And I find myself regretting that I lacked this at the very end for Taro.
Perhaps Taro foresaw even that; such was the way he passed. I hold on to a sense of closeness, a certainty that he is surely watching over me forever, together with my other loved ones.
(Posted: July 21, 2010)