Slavonic dance OP76-2 by Dvorak

Another private memory. In sentimentalism.

As written elsewhere in this blog, my parents have met and married at a small sanatorium for tuberculosis during WW II, when my father demobilized the army after having spent harsh time as a soldier in China for several years. That sanatorium managed by our aunt was located at this place we are living at present. Tuberculosis was an absolutely serious illness those days. My aunt, my parents and a few workers, mother and aunt being nurse, used to care for the patients in poverty. Most of the patients had stayed there until they passed away. In '50s, aminoglycosides were developed as specific medicine for tuberculosis and such a small sanatorium has lost its meaning of existence in the society. My aunt has decided to close it down in mid' 50s. Oh, well, I think I have told about this story in a previous article. The rest of the story will be carried out in short.

My parents have decided to go to Tokyo for a new life with us, three children. They have got a place in a suburb of Tokyo, which their friend, known through the community of Christianity, has introduced them. A month or two prior to our departure to Tokyo, my father left for there and built a very tiny house by himself. This is it. He was in his late thirties of age. Energetic and willing to manage raising the family. I was 5 years of age then and still have occasional vague memories of the life there.

One time, playing on a swing, I fell down on the ground and had one leg broken. With it fixed firmly, I could not attend the kindergarten and spent a month or so at home. All I could do was to draw pictures on paper and to listen to radio. When sun was sinking and dusk was falling around, I might feel lonely at home. Around such a time, there was a program featuring a Slavonic Dance of Dvorak. The melody, sentimental as well as beautiful, was really impressive enough to be remembered by this young boy. Of course, I have never remembered of the title or its composer at that time. Later, when I started listening to classical music, I met it again. If I remember it right, I might have a chance to play it as a cellist for an encore to Dvorak's 8th symphony at the university orchestra, which is full of impressive melodies as well. Needless to say, my mind was full of nostalgia for that time.

I just happened to find this video in Youtube. It has brought me back to those old days again. Loneliness waiting for parents to come home in twilight. I also remembered of my parents who were working hard for us. Especially, my father. I have not esteemed his efforts and love for the family. At this age, I feel my heart filled with gratitude to him. So late but better than nothing.  

My parents and my sister at the sanatorium. 

Twenty years or so ago, we have had a celebration for my parents' anniversary. With their 3 children. 

Still wondering if I have thanked them enough to reward their love to us. Honestly, I feel I could have done or could have expressed gratitude to them.

Recalling them with this sentimental melody, I excuse them remembering them in this way is a return to them if not sufficient at all.