飯田 夏生実

Naomi Iida

One day it comes out of the blue.
For example, the end of child-rearing, caring for parents, physical decline, illness, separation and old age. If I put into words, all of these things are familiar to us.
But when it actually happened to me, my body and mind reacted in unexpected ways. Suddenly, before I could even comprehend what had happened, I felt as if I had been plunged into a dark, heavy body of water and locked in. What struck me was the "empty nest syndrome," the grief that parents feel in the wake of childrearing.
In the deepening confusion and turmoil, I felt like everything passed me by indifferently. Finally, when I didn't even know who I was anymore, I began taking pictures of my shadow and reflection with my cell phone as if I were holding on to each place and time with a pushpin. And I looked at them over and over again. I felt that these pictures were proof of my existence, that I was connected to the world however slightly.
Slowly, overtime, these pictures took me out under the bright sky. Fresh air filled my chest. The world returns to its rich colors.
Yet still, the heavy, dark water remains inside me. It will become part of my flesh and blood, carving deep wrinkles and outlining my life. I pray to love all of it.