One year ago I was sitting on a bench in an empty car park outside a big children’s hospital in Tokyo waiting for news about my wife and our yet to be born baby. Today I am sitting in a beautiful house in Fukuoka with a sleeping wife and one year old son in front of me. Life could almost not be more different. Or more beautiful; looking back, there are a few of those years in my life, where life has changed beyond recognition, for better or worse, but to this past year there is no comparison. The love, the worries and the meaning of life that being a father to a little boy brings with it leaves no part of life unchanged. And no part of it I want to be without.
Becoming a one year old boy in Japan is a very special occasion. My wife, not having much experience with small children and their birthday celebrations, was a bit at a loss for what to do, but fortunately my wife’s parents were very happy to help and wanted to share the day with us. Our son’s grandparents had ordered mochi at a special shop. Mochi is a sticky Japanese rice cake, and holds a central place when celebrating the first birthday.
My wife went to pick up the mochi in the morning and she came home with a very heavy box containing two big rice cakes that we stood looking at, wondering what to do. We had to wait until the afternoon when my parents in law came, to finally be relieved of our questions marks. The ”mochi celebration” started by our son being encouraged to wear special little sandals made of straw, and then stand on the mochi. The sandals were too small for him, but I tried to help him balance on top of the sandals standing on the mochi, and judging by the reactions I think he passed the “test”.
After standing on the sticky rice mountain, our little baby was supposed to carry the rice cake on his back and walk a few steps. My mother in law neatly put the mochi in a furishiki, a big bento wrap, and then tied it around our sons back. And as if it was a light backpack, our son happily walked a few steps across the room, much to everyone’s joy – tradition has it that parents whose child manages to do that, can anticipate a very blessed and long life for their baby. I hope that in some sense, in some past, I was able to stand on and carry a heavy sticky rice cake when I was one year old so that I can look forward to having the chance to celebrate many more happy birthdays together with my family.
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