My wife's birthday

 It was my wife's 69th birthday yesterday.

It has been half a century !! since I met her first. It was at the orientation of the medical school. At the introduction event at night in a room, I have seen her first. She was a shy looking girl with curly hair and fair skin. A typical country girl. She was a student so shy to walk at the side of corridor in order not to stand out in the class. It was not until the last grade before graduation that I knew her in person. I don't know how but we have become married and have grown family here.

This photo is most beloved one for me which shows her in young days. I have posted it a few times in this blog in the past. Taken at the honey moon. A very short trip to Izu near Tokyo. We have not had much time as well as much money for a gorgeous trip. One of the days when she has looked most bright and beautiful.  

Each of us has not been perfect. But she has worked hard as a wife, a mother and a psychiatrist. I owe her much. Recently, I continually think of a couple of things regarding her.

First, I should be asked if I could tell her parents that I have made her happy in her life when I could see them in the heaven. The parents in law both are suffering from dementia now and it might be difficult for us to see and converse with them like before for now. I feel responsible for this toward them.

The other thing is that we might not be able to share such an event as this one for many more years any longer. I might be too pessimistic for the future. But eschatological way of life is essential for us at our age. Treasure everyday as it won't be repeated any more.       

I have prepared a present of a cloth for winter and this cake. 

I don't know what she feels about my attitude. At least, she looked happy to have them yesterday.

Chestnut rice

 And chestnut rice is ready for dinner.

Seasoned with sake, salt, soy sauce and a piece of dried kelp, it tastes great.

I just wished my parents had been at the table with us. How much they would enjoy this dish. Imagining of that, I was almost crying. 

In Japan, there is fairly distinct change of the four seasons. At the beginning of fall, we often have this rice. 

Time is flowing as usual. 

Chestnut fruits season

It is the season of chestnut fruits falling on the ground. This big chestnut tree bears a lot of the fruits. I noticed they had started falling a few days ago. I was not sure whether I should collect them or not. 

Looking at those fruits on the ground beneath the tree, I decided to collect them again. They would be decayed or would give rise to the young trees of chestnut and eventually would be relentlessly cut. Since they have had the rare chance to be in the world, I should use them for dishes or have them eaten by people. 

A bowl of the fruits. Maybe, bowlful fruits may follow for the coming few days. It is another issue how I should consume them. To send some to my brother who might enjoy the product of this place, where he was born. At least, I was starting to cook chestnut rice seasoned with soy sauce, salt and sweetened sake. A hard work is waiting for me. That is to peel the hard shell.

As written before, these fruit trees have been planted by my father, who used to experience the hardest days of starving in WWII and believed these trees would be of help to him and the family in any starvation or any crisis in the future. So far, they are not of use yet. But who knows? The food sufficiency rate of our country remains only 37% in caloric basis. It is quite a mystery why the politics won't take it serious for the self defense of the country, even despite of their enthusiasm for military arming. A candidate of the LPDJ president insists even of the military first strike against the other country's military bases. What a policy out of focus! Anyway, at this age, I could understand what my father used to think of planting them in the garden.

Our cat, Hikaru, quite friendly to me and anyone and always chasing me working in the garden, climbs on a tree and wonders if I am working hard from there.

 

Brahms Intermezzo OP117

 As most of my friends know, I have started playing cello at the university orchestra. In 2 or 3 years after starting it, I managed to be on the stage as a cellist. At that time, we have had regular practice at a women's university every week end. Our orchestra was composed of the students of both of the universities.  

Finishing such a practice at the student hall, we have set out for home in some small groups. I have known a group of younger members who had the same taste for classical music. Often we got back home together. 

In this season or a bit later when fall was deepened, I walked aside of the main hall of the university, an old building with brick exterior built in the prewar era. Street lights were lighting at certain interval of the campus street leading to the exit. Otherwise darkness has governed the area. Quiet and cool.

One of such company, who was quite a good violinist and would play in the orchestra as a concertmaster for the next few years, has come close to me. He whispered to me as if asking for my approval that the Intermezzo by Brahms was excellent. At that time, Brahms or Franck was of concern for both of us and the company. I still remember of him saying that in husky and low voice as if it were yesterday.

Early fall, from that episode, I could not help remembering of the Intermezzo. In the last years of life, Brahms has composed piano pieces except for a couple of the clarinet chamber music. By that time, he has started organizing his works in his whole life as if his last will. In the Intermezzo, we could hear him composing with his beloved instrument piano all in solitude. This opus 117 sounds like a music of solitude. He still held passion for life and music but his basic emotion was that of solitude. 

I believe that violinist friend is already reaching the age of retirement for now. Wondering if he still listens to this Intermezzo expressing solitude and resignation for life.

This performance of the piece by Pires is touching. She makes it sound as if Brahms himself told me he would let me know of his thought and feelings in the end of his life.  How much I would like to go back those days when I talked about such music with friends...almost 50 years ago!