Dearest Rachel –
For all the hype about our trip to Japan, and that we were doing it at the exact time (more or less) as cherry blossom season, the fact of the matter remains that there are other flowers that were blooming as well. In Tokyo, in particular, the blossoms had already fallen by the time we arrived (indeed, the guides were somewhat apologetic, although the occasional chalking it up to global warming left me sighing inwardly); however, by the time we returned, the azaleas and wisteria were in bloom. While not necessarily as famous and iconic as their sakura, they too have their beauty, and a certain clear connection to Japan.
But I don’t have to go halfway around the world to see flowers blooming, now, do I?
It’s strange to realize that these flowers have been in our front yard, since we moved in – and before, then obviously. Given what little I know of the disintegrating couple we bought the house from, they weren’t likely the ones who planted them. The flowers were probably planted by the original owners, making them quite possibly older than either of us. It’s strange to contemplate that they might’ve been poking their heads up every spring, in late March or early April, since before either of us were born. Stranger still to acknowledge that they’ll probably be doing so long after I move out and turn the house over to Daniel, and most likely, long after I have gone and joined you in the hereafter.
They’re such routine visitors that we rarely bothered to pay them any attention for year to year. They were always just… there. Oh sure, every year I would mow around then, leaving them up as long as possible, and only cut them down once all their blossoms had fallen sometime in May. Nowadays, I don’t even give them that much shrift; mowing them down is left to the landscapers I hired after you had to go.
And as for the magnolia, well, that’s never even been ours to tend to, as it’s in the neighbors’ yard. Indeed, there was (and I imagine still is, as I haven’t looked at your car all that closely since getting back) a nuisance factor to it, as the blossoms would fall and and stick to the car, leaving a mark where they’d landed, if we didn’t brush it off soon enough. I’ll probably have to take it in to get washed soon enough.
I should point out that we didn’t exactly go to Japan for the sakura blossom festivals; we’re not that deeply into the culture (and nowhere near the level of drinkers, especially saké) to partake in Hanami celebrations. But it was mentioned as a particularly interesting time of year wherever we would go throughout the country, so we were acutely aware of it. And this awareness has been carried home with us, especially given what we came home to. When we left, the stems were just barely starting to make their way out of the ground again; by the time we returned, well… you can see what little is left of them. We missed out while we were engaging in other things.
It’s one of those things where you don’t miss something until you miss it, you know?
I keep trying to tell myself this didn’t happen with us, but you know, if I didn’t notice something back then, it’s not as if you’re here to point out or remind me of what I glossed over in the past. It’s what I’m deathly afraid of, when it comes to the past, and specifically our past. Did I pay you enough attention? Were you satisfied with your life with me and Daniel? Or did I not appreciate you enough as you bloomed and flowered, and find myself only trying to remember what your flower looked like, now that it’s withered away to dust?
I can’t do anything about whatever the answer to that may be; if you were satisfied, I’ll never truly know – I’d like to believe you were, but you know how it is; the fact that the question is even brought up suggests that a negative answer is possible – if you weren’t, I’ll be equally ignorant, but with the added handicap of not knowing what I might have done better. Not that it matters unless Megumi shows herself; I’ll have to learn from what we did, and try to do better.
Until then, honey, please keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 