A collection of subjectivities

Recently my uncle passed away, so I went to the wake and funeral. He was my mother’s brother.
I have only attended wakes and funerals about three times in my life, and often they were for people I barely knew — so this was the first time someone I had many memories with died.

I also saw my cousins for the first time in a while.

He died of illness, and again I thought life is short. I get along well with my cousins (that is, the children of the uncle who passed), so I imagine it was a shock for them.

On Saturday weekend I traveled from Tokyo to Osaka, attended with the family, joined the Sunday funeral partway, then went straight back to Tokyo because I had work.

During the funeral I thought about a lot of things.
My parents are still alive, but I thought that someday they will die too — and that people close to me will suddenly pass in the life ahead. Of course myself as well.

I spent those two days thinking how short life is.

Wanting to spend each day comfortably, get along with friends, and live in good health has grown stronger lately — and that feeling only got stronger.

At this funeral, my mother seemed to be going through a hard time in many ways, and it hurt. I will not write the details, but there were circumstances, and it was tough.

There were also many people I do not usually meet, and listening to conversations, once you leave one community, there are all kinds of people and the protocols differ.

Recalling that too carefully does not leave me with a good feeling either, so I will not write it out.

Changing the subject a bit: after coming back to Tokyo, to settle my mind I reread one of my favorite novels that I have written about on this blog many times — The Remains of the Day.

I will skip the synopsis since I have mentioned it before; what I felt again is that the world’s values are a collection of subjectivities — and that connected to what I wrote above.

I do not know whether the rest of my life is long or short, but for now I want to live so that my heart stays comfortable.

This turned into a strange blog post, but I felt that unless I wrote something, the knot in my head would not come loose — so I wrote it.