Farewell, my Dear Friend
I stayed with Jane while traveling in Australia. She was a warm-hearted empty-nester and retired linguist. She loved roses, her gardens were filled with the lovely scent. One evening, Jane called her Japanese tutor Noriko, saying I'd enjoy using my native language. I greeted Noriko with a traditional phone greeting, "Moshi Moshi...?"
Noriko didn't greet me back and let out a sigh instead. Not worth repeating here, but I was stunned that someone could be so "enthusiastically" judgmental of a stranger. I still don't know what triggered her to be so aggressive. I only had a chance to say, "Um, I don't know what you are talking about, though?" And it seemed to upset her even more. I kept a smile on my face since I didn't want to make Jane uncomfortable. “Thank you for your time,” I said without meaning it, handing Jane the phone back.
Jane continued her conversation with Noriko, saying, "Yes, Noriko. Ah, you're so very welcome. Yes, I know, Misako is lovely, isn't she? I'm glad you enjoyed the chat. Yes, we should get together, it'll be fun." Jane gave me a big smile. My cheeks just twitched.
No, as a Japanese native, Noriko's lies didn't surprise me. That was her "tatemae," a display, carefully choosing which emotions and thoughts to be seen. It was considered polite and mature. My thanking her was my tatemae. Noriko and I both appreciated Jane’s effort.
The fact was that I was just a traveler. Noriko might have been worried about Jane if I was a thief or something, but I'd never know. Noriko screamed at me at one point, "You don't belong here!" It stung, but she was right. I was an outsider, about to leave the country. Being free had its trade-offs, and I chose my freedom, didn't I? I reminded myself.
After I left Australia, Jane occasionally sent me photos of her smiling with Noriko and their families, taken in sunny beachside cafes, farmers' markets, or tranquil gardens. They were indeed close friends. Looking at those beautiful pictures felt like handling thorny roses.
I've kept this experience private until now. Though I still disguise their real names and always will, it no longer seems necessary. This morning, I received an email from her daughter, telling me Jane had passed away. . Farewell, my dear friend Tears mingle with rainbows' blur Rose petals scattered