On the occasion of the entrance ceremony

I was breathing heavily when I went to the entrance ceremony, wearing a cool boy's suit I bought for the occasion (a stand-up collar shirt and sarouel pants, with a mature look) and a Morris dress my mother had sewn for me, but the photos my husband took of us as mother and child were pretty awful (too rude). I want to do it again. Next year, I want to blend in with the new first graders and take a photo in front of the "Entrance Ceremony" sign again. If I ask the teacher, will they lend me the "Entrance Ceremony" sign? How are you all doing in April, filled with such feelings?

Speaking of me, I am overwhelmed by handouts from elementary school every day. There are detailed notices every day, so I thought it would be easier to understand if they could put a week's worth of information on one sheet (of course, the teacher must have some intention. I don't really know.), the school lunch notices printed on straw paper remind me of my favorite school lunches (simmered mackerel in miso, fried soybean flour bread), and I have nostalgic memories of the Tokyo Shoseki "New Japanese" textbook I saw for the first time in about 15 years. Gon, was it you....(´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

Then, during the recent earthquake, a photo of me when I first entered elementary school was unearthed. How timely! And my mother put it on display in the living room. When my husband saw it, he laughed and said, "You're so full."

But in this photo, my eyes were drawn to my mother and father rather than to myself. My parents when they were about the same age as I am now, when they were raising children the same age as I am now. I wonder what they were thinking.

With that in mind, I look at my parents now.
On the day the school bag arrived, my mother and father looked happier than my son. I thought to myself, "Ah, I see, this child is being raised with a lot of love."

I'm sure that this is true not only of my son, but also of me.
According to my husband, the reason he has framed the photo of me with my bulging breasts and put it on display in the living room must be because he still thinks I'm cute even though I'm bulging. Or maybe he just thinks I'm hilarious because I'm bulging. I hope it's the former.

"Children who are raised with love have innocent faces," my mother said after looking at the photo book "Aimokawarazu."

I wonder what my son looks like.

What I know for sure is that my son is being raised with love. He was loved and cared for not only by our family but also at the kindergarten. I cannot express in words how grateful I am to all those who have taken care of him.

When his name was called at the graduation ceremony, he said "Yes" in a louder and more dignified voice than ever before. It was a heavy and strong "Yes" like the samurai played by Hideki Takahashi. Who would have expected that a mysterious man who keeps weaving rubber bands day after day would transform into Hideki Takahashi?

You have stepped into the gates of learning, and from now on you will continue to move forward. Wanting to see what lies beyond what you have learned, you will continue to move forward.

I often sing "I'll be by your side forever," but my mother knows. You will leave here someday. How much time is left until that day comes? When will I realize that this time that I take for granted is not so obvious?

I wonder if my parents felt the same way back then. They knew about it, but they always treated me the same, so I guess I did the same.

Until the day you leave home, I will cook rice every morning. I will read a book every night. I will watch movies on Fridays. Sometimes I will get too angry and regret it.
Let's continue to live like that. Someday, on your child's special day, let's just smile, rejoice in the fruits of our labor, and be grateful. That's fine, isn't it, Mom and Dad?
Thank you so much for your love, now and always.

Profile/Eriko Seki