“If winter comes, can spring be far behind?“

My aunt passed away. She was a surgeon, and my memories of her are so numerous that I find it impossible to summarize them in a single word. To me, she was more of a mother than my own, and she was affectionately known as "Big Mom."

She was a true hard worker who graduated at the top of her class from Keio University School of Medicine. She was supposed to deliver the valedictorian speech, but because the chairs of the other departments were all women, she yielded the honor to a male student—a decision that would surely be seen as a significant issue today. Even at my tender age, I realized she belonged to a different class of people. She was a demure, authentic Yamato Nadeshiko, yet she carried herself with the presence of a true Queen. Even as a spirit, she remains eternal in my mind; I can still envision exactly what she would say in any given moment.

At the funeral, seeing my cousins—who are usually as bright and brilliant as the sun—in tears, it pulled at my heartstrings. I tried to maintain my "buffalo stance," but my firm composure failed me then. Now, I am also deeply concerned for my mother and my other aunt, who have lost their most reliable sister.

I often reflect on her insights, her sense of righteousness, and her deep humanity. These days, in the cold season, it is hard to tell whether it is a runny nose from the chill or tears from dry, weary eyes.

“If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”

In the bleak wind, she remains beside me, purifying my soul.
Every day brings someone new into this world, and every day someone leaves it.
May each day be the best it can be, for as long as we are here.