It was a long time ago at my father’s side of the family.
I was only five years old, and at the time I didn’t understand why it happened.
But now I think I understand why.
My father’s hometown is in Wakayama Prefecture.
It was inland and there was no sea, but it was a wonderful place with many rice paddies and in the spring, lotus flowers were in full bloom.
I think my father returned to his hometown for the first time in a long time during his summer vacation.
I think he wanted to show his son his hometown.
It was springtime, and the lotus flowers were spreading all over the rice paddies.
I have photos, but the memories of this place are so vivid that I can still replay them in my mind.
It was a heavenly memory for my childhood.
Except for one thing that I could not accept at the time.
In a field full of lotus flowers, my paternal uncle, aunt, cousin, and I were picking the flowers with enthusiasm.
My cousin was good with her hands, so she made garlands and bracelets for us, and we both had a blast.
I was soon wandering around the large lotus field, picking and picking flowers all the way to the center of the field.
I learned that the nectar of the lotus flower is sweet.
When I reached a place where I could see my aunts, uncles, and cousins in the distance.
I thought, “I’ve went too far,” and started to head back the way I came, with my hands full of lotus flowers.
I looked behind me and saw someone who should not have been there a moment ago.
I don’t remember the details, but it was a woman in a blue one-piece dress.
She said, “Can you give those flowers to me?”
.
I remember that I gave her only half of my two hands full of lotus flowers.
After all, I had picked so many, so I guess I didn’t want to give them all away.
The woman said, “Thank you. Are you alone?”
I shook my head to show that I was alone.
To tell the truth, I had been like this , because the woman was so beautiful.
She asked me many questions, such as where I came from and how old I was.
She was also very good with her hands and made me things like garlands and necklaces.
What was a little strange was that she smelled damp, like earth.
I thought it was strange, even as a child.
“Shall we go over there?”
She pointed to a little grove of trees in the middle of the rice paddies.
“Of course.”
She grabbed my hand and pulled me away with a different kind of force.
I guess I was surprised by her sudden change.
I waved my hand up and down to shake it off.
However, the force of her pull on me became stronger and stronger, and she continued to move toward the grove in the rice paddies.
I begged her, “I’ll ask your uncle first, then let me go.”
She did not listen at first, but after several pleas, she reluctantly let go of my hand and let me go.
I ran to the bank where my uncle was.
I kicked away the lotus root and ran as fast as I could because I was a little scared.
I told my aunt and uncle what had just happened in child’s language, and they said, “Let’s go back to the house.
At first my cousin and I were a little bit restless because we didn’t have enough fun, but my aunt and uncle were so serious that we had no choice but to go back to the house.
My uncle gave my cousin some pudding, took me by the hand, and we went outside again.
I walked along the rice field path with my uncle.
By the way, I couldn’t find the woman. Where did she go?
With this thought in mind, I walked along the rice field path with my uncle’s hand leading me.
The destination was the grove I saw earlier.
The grove was a cemetery.
It was the kind of cemetery that is often found in the countryside, where two or three cemeteries are clustered together.
My uncle lit incense, offered it to the grave, and laid his hands on it.
I joined him in praying.
When I looked at the grave, I saw that it was filled with lotus flower.
A very large clump of lotus flowers and a wreath were half buried in the ground.
“K, that woman is not a person. She is a ghost and she almost took you away.”
My uncle said to me.
“No more playing with the sponge gourd today,” he told me. “Let’s go home and have a nice dinner.”
And he walked back to his house, taking me by the hand along the same path we had come from.
“Was it a ghost? ” I asked my uncle along the way.
But my uncle, while smoking a cigarette, gave me no answer.
That evening, to my father’s surprise, dinner was a feast.
I ate a lot and went to bed with a full stomach.
I think he was trying to make me forget about that day with the meal.
In my dream, the woman appeared.
She looked so disappointed and said to me in the dream, “See you again.”
The next day, I didn’t play with the lotus flower.
Instead, my uncle took me to the beach.
It may not have been as fancy as dying, but it was
It was a strange and, when I think about it now, a little sad story from my childhood.
After all, I never played in the lotus field after that.
Nowadays, apartments have been built and there is no trace of the lotus field, but the graves are still there.
