Just Being Close

I hadn’t written a making diary for a while, so today I quietly note down a record of recent days.

Recently, my younger child caught chickenpox, and as a family we have been spending most of our time at home.

Each time I see the rash, my chest tightens a little, and I try to stay as close as possible.

I’ve also taken a four-day break from the gym I usually go to every morning.

Work hasn’t been progressing as smoothly as I’d like, and since my husband is out working on weekdays, I’ve been handling most of my work over the weekends.

Today, I found a bit of time and came to the library for the first time in a while.

That’s about the extent of my recent outings.

Even inside the house, the air somehow feels cold. It seems a cold wave has arrived after all.

When someone isn’t feeling well, just having another person nearby can be a small comfort.

There were times when the television was on, and during those moments I quietly did something else, or simply stayed in the same space.

As a result, I may have spent more time watching the screen than usual, but for now, I accept that as part of this time.

She has already turned six, and parenting has become much easier, but since she has had febrile seizures twice, I still feel afraid when she runs a high fever.

Suddenly, I find myself remembering my own childhood.

I recall coloring by myself, though that memory might belong to a slightly later time. I wonder if I was the type of child who could play alone.

In any case, I loved my mother when I had a cold—because she was twice as gentle as usual.

Nothing particularly significant has happened.

And yet, I hope that when my daughter looks back on this quiet, closed-off time in the future, she will remember it with the warmth of sunlight filtering through the leaves.