[Message to December
]
This year I came across a nice poem called "One Word" by Hakushu Kitahara.
He is considered one of the most prestigious poets in modern Japanese literature, active during the Taisho and Showa periods.
One Word by Hakushu Kitahara
One word can sometimes result in a quarrel
With one word, we become friends again
With one word, we take our hats off to someone
With one word, we laugh with each other
One word makes us cry
One word has a soul
Beautiful words create beautiful hearts
Gentle words create gentle hearts
Cherish one word, and make one word beautiful
Words give people peace and encouragement.
They are not necessarily smart or stylish, simply considerate and thoughtful: "Thank you", "I'm sorry", "Good morning",
"That's right. You're right", "I'm glad I was with you", "I was happy to meet you", "May I help you?"
I think words are a great gift to all. Kind words might resonate with someone and can also warm the heart.
They might even be remembered forever.
Looking back over this year, I learned a lot about the difficulty of communicating my gratitude in words
even as I was being helped by the kindness of words given.
And the poem "One Word" still echoes in my heart.
(Y. Kashio)
Everybody's talking about.This-ism, That-ism, Is-m, is-m, is-m.
I was listening to this familiar song, and our oldest girl kept asking me questions.
"Who's singing this song with all those people in the background?" One question after another.
What comes to mind when you hear the words "December 8"?
On 12/8/1941 (December 7, Pearl Harbor time), Japan, with their allies Germany and Italy,
launched a war that would be fought on battlefields across the entire world.
As for me, I'll remember December 8, 2020 as the anniversary of John Lennon's death.
On this day 40 years ago, John Lennon, as he was returning with his wife Yoko Ono to his Manhattan home at the Dakota,
was shot and killed by a deranged fan.
2020 has not been the happiest year in history.The COVID-19 pandemic was a trigger for racial discrimination and political conflict,
all of which brought everyone so much weariness and frustration.
On her clinical internship last year, our daughter visited the Lennon Wall in downtown Prague, Czech Republic.
It is a monument to 'Lennonism' and a symbol of freedom, western culture and political struggle for young students.
In Hong Kong, there are more than 200 Lennon Walls, representing protesters' bonds even under oppression.
More people than ever are singing Lennon's "Imagine" this holiday season.
Last August, two and a half months after shutting their doors because of the pandemic, New York's Metropolitan Museum decided
to hold an exhibition, "Dream Together by Yoko Ono," the museum curator remarking that we all needed
"Yoko's very strong and open messages of unity". And two months ago, following a run in Liverpool,
the "Double Fantasy John & Yoko" exhibition arrived in Tokyo, at Sony Music Roppongi Museum (10/9/2020-1/11/2021).
Lennon's Gibson J-160E is on display, and you can take an 'IMAGINE PEACE' tour and see the couple's personal items,
John's glasses, sketchbooks, Yoko's Grapefruit manuscript and more.
"So Mom, John was a Beatle?" She was annoying me again.
(Kazuyo)
Cellphone use has drastically changed the way we communicate with one another.
I don't write letters as often as I used to, because I'm so accustomed to using social media platforms.
If for three days, I couldn't catch up with what family and friends were doing via email, I would feel lost.
But does that mean writing letters is just time consuming and obsolete?
I don't think so. To me reading old letters is like riding a time machine!
They take me back to the days I can't remember and lead me to a world I never knew.
Recently I had a chance to read mail my grandfather received while he was stationed at troop headquarters in Manchuria
during the Second Sino-Japanese War (1937-1945).
Many "consolation letters" from different parts of Japan were among the correspondence my grandfather carefully tucked away in a box.
School children wrote starting with, "Dear our strong Japanese soldier, we all owe you for your efforts that allow us to lead lives of dignity."
Folks at home paid high respect to soldiers at the front and sent them not only encouraging notes but also flights of pure rhetoric
-"May Fortune ever smile on Japan's military might!"
So sweet were my father's letters, written at around eight years old to his own father, that I can't help smiling.
He apologized for mischief he caused on the day of his father's departure for the front.
"My behavior was wrong, but I have become more grown up since then, so please don't worry about me..."
I like imagining him as an innocent, but no doubt sometimes naughty, boy. My grandmother often wrote him.
Their frequent letter-exchange shows how much both loved each other although they never phrased their affection in overtly romantic terms.
She once wrote, "I won't get discouraged because I'm both the daughter of a samurai and the wife of a soldier. Don't worry and leave everything to me."
Still, I can only imagine the hardships she must have endured raising four small children by herself
during her husband's years of absence. She adds, "Please love your own horse because it may protect you from harm,"
a prescient warning because he narrowly escaped death in a bombing raid while on a mission with his cavalry troop.
Luckily, at war's end, he returned home safely carrying all the letters he'd received.
Sure, today's texting is convenient, and emoji/stickers are fun. But it would be a pity
if today's youth missed out on the experience of taking their time over a letter,anticipating a reply and the enjoyment of reading it again later on.
No doubt, delayed delivery due to the military's postal censorship made my grandparents' hearts grow fonder.
From all their handwritten letters, I can sense the emotion, the momentum, and even their living breath.
Letters once lit up my young heart and can still recall memories.
This year, the least I can do so is pen handwritten notes on all my New Year's cards to family and friends.
(Miwa N.)
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