#nana56b
Lines from the story
Grandpa always doted on me like crazy.
When I was a kid, if I came home crying with a
nosebleed after being bullied, Grandpa would fly
into a rage.“Who the hell laid a hand on my
precious grandson?!”Even though he was always
complaining about back pain, he’d swing his
trusty cane around and storm all the way to my
school, yelling at them. That broad back of his,
standing there as if to shield me, filled me
with pride and, above all, gave me a sense of
security.
On field trips and at sports days, while the
other kids’ families brought fancy three-tiered
bento boxes, what Grandpa packed for me was
a “huge inari sushi” stuffed so full it looked
like it might burst.“A man’s got to eat to have
any strength, you know.”That taste—with just a
touch too much vinegar—was the very embodiment
of my clumsy grandpa’s love.
My earliest memory is of a stormy night when
I had a fever.“It’s okay. Grandpa’s here with
you.”As my consciousness faded, the only thing
I remember is the warmth of Grandpa’s back.
A country road with no traffic.
Grandpa—who wasn’t exactly young back
then—desperately ran the entire 4 kilometers to
the town doctor, carrying me on his back.
I can’t tell if what dripped down my neck was
rain, or Grandpa’s sweat and tears.
I’ll never forget the sound of his heart
beating—fast, yet somehow reassuring—that I
heard against his back.
It wasn’t until Grandpa’s funeral that I
realized Grandpa and I weren’t actually related
by blood.
The living room was empty, with only a faint
lingering scent of
incense.
The house, having just finished Grandpa’s funeral,
was surprisingly quiet.I sat alone in front of the
Buddhist altar, staring at Grandpa’s portrait.
An old copy of my family register lay on my lap.
The cruel truth recorded there shook the very
foundation of the twenty-odd years of my life up to
that point.
Grandpa had remained single his whole life.
I was the child of a couple who lived next door,
and when they fled in the middle of the night, deep
in debt, I—who was just a baby at the time—was the
only one left behind, abandoned as if I were trash.
Unable to stand by and watch, Grandpa—who wasn’t a
relative at all, just a neighbor—stepped forward and
said, “I’ll raise him.”
If this voice could reach you now, Grandpa, I’d
like to ask you something.Why did you work yourself
to the bone to raise me—a complete stranger with no
blood ties to you?
But more than that, there’s something else I want
to tell you.Thank you. To me, Grandpa was the only
family I ever had—and the best one in the world.
I never once felt the loneliness of not having
parents.He sent me all the way to college and helped
me become a working adult who wears a sharp suit.
Everything I am today is all thanks to Grandpa.
Next time, I’ll take my newborn daughter to visit
his …
