wakibitos

入院中の母を見舞みまった。車いすに母を乗せ、ガラス窓越しに外の景色が見れる場所にいるなどして、1時間半ほど過ごした。1ヵ月入院した彼女の太ももは細く、体全体が一回り小さくなり軽くなった。

帰りがけに、ベッドに寝そべった母に向かって「おふくろ、また来るよ」と言うと、「<おふくろ>じゃないでしょ」と言うから、「じゃあ、何と呼ぼうか」と尋ねた。すると、うれしそうな顔をして、自分に言い聞かせるように「よっこちゃん」と応こたえた。むかし、兄弟や近所の人々が彼女を呼んだ愛称だ。僕が「よっこちゃん、また来るね」というと、うれしそうに笑ってくれた。

病院を出て自転車に乗って約1時間、夕刻のラッシュで混み合う幹線道路の脇わきを、必死にペダルを漕こぎ続けて疾駆しっくした。信号で止まるたびに母の愛らしい表情が浮かんでは消えた。

I spent an hour and a half visiting my mother in the hospital, putting her in her wheelchair and being in a place where we could see the outside view through the glass window. After a month in the hospital, her thighs were thinner and her entire body was smaller and lighter.

Leaving her room, I said to my mother, who was lying on her bed, “Mother, I’ll be back again,” to which she replied, “Why do you call me mother?” to which I asked, “Well, how can I call you, then?” She smiled and responded, saying to herself “Yokko-chan.” For a long time, that has been the nickname her brothers and sisters or neighbors called her. She had a cute expression on her face. When I said, “Yokko-chan, I’ll come again soon,” she smiled happily.

After leaving the hospital, I rode my bicycle for about an hour, pedaling frantically along the side of the main road, which was congested during the evening rush hour. Every time I stopped at a traffic light, my mother’s adorable face came and went.