For the second day in a row this week, I took my bike out for a lunchtime ride. The weather is perfect. Still a winter chill, but the sun balances it out. Still gotta wear the winter riding jacket. I stopped off at this little lunch shack in Ichinazaka. It’s kind of like an old-fashioned cafeteria, but Japanese style. I grabbed some chicken and some rice even though I didn’t feel like eating rice, but I did feel that bowl of mentaiko calling to me, so I got rice to put it on because eating mentaiko plain is crude even by my standards. I was gobbling my food and people-watching because this joint is filled with characters, from depressed salarymen to delivery drivers to couples who don’t quite look retirement age but for some reason are totally free on a Tuesday at 11:00 a.m. It’s an eccentric bunch every time I go there. And now that I think about it, I suppose I am one of them.
I was wrapping up and had a piece of grated cabbage stuck between my front teeth. Before I could grab a toothpick or try to suck it out, this old lady was standing right next to me and goes, "Sensei!" really loud. Turns out she’s a kind 82-year-old woman, and her son apparently passed away last week, which is a curious bit of information to know after having met someone thirty seconds earlier. But she’s 82. She invited me to come have tea with her sometime because her family runs a business providing wedding priests for Japanese folks who want to have a Western-style chapel wedding. During the pandemic, she lost all her gaijins and would I be interested? So we exchanged phone numbers, and I’m gonna call her up and have tea and see what happens. If I can get an extra gig on the weekends that pays well, it would really help because 1) I would love to do that and 2) the world economy is such that we could really use the extra income, even when Eri eventually goes back to work. Though Eri is doing pretty well with her online business, every little bit helps.
Lately, I’ve become that ornery middle-aged guy who constantly harps about litter, so I’ve been donning work gloves and grabbing a trash bag and trash-grabbing tongs when I set about my evening walk. Tonight, the sunset was incredible.
I bumped into Kobayashi-san, who has agreed to help Eri get into her kimono for Osamu’s elementary school entrance ceremony next month. She was walking her dog. I bump into her a lot actually. She’s one of those wonderful neighborhood people who is always about and always doing something. We worked together in the neighborhood association for a while, and I love that even though she’s probably at least 70 years old, she puts on overalls and joins us for park grass cutting and tree trimming every spring and autumn.
Eri is an amazing cook, more than the boys and I deserve. Tonight was a simple soy ramen dinner, and it was deelish as always.
She was tired and apologized for not making something better, but I was like, are you kidding? This is filled with love, the best ingredient of all. Kenzo was like, what does love taste like, and I said, pipe down and eat your noodles.
Everywhere I turn, I see it. The setting sun shining through winter trees about to awaken to spring, an old lady eager to share her story, a woman in her seventies getting up every day to lend a hand in keeping our neighborhood beautiful, my beautiful wife making a simple meal with care.
Little things that will change you forever may appear from way out of the blue, making fools of everybody who don't understand.
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