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In November 2007, my father was ready to go home. The house in Britain was about to sold, an end finally in sight after a long and arduous process. My mother would be staying in Britain, perhaps to rejoin my father later, and my father would be going back to Japan. I had become less of a source of concern for him; he seemed resigned to letting me go my own way, and make my own selfish mistakes. He was worried about my sister, but knew that she was both strong enough and bloody-minded enough to continue to forge her own path; in fact, he had finally recognised that she was the strongest of us, and the most like him. In November, my father was slower, and more peaceful, than he had been in a long time; for the first time in more than a year and a half, since he had been rushed to hospital, he was both content, and excited about the future. No, wait; perhaps he had been discontent even before the quake which tore through his brain; he had been both restless and stagnant for too long since his retirement.

We sat at the kitchen table, talking about the past, and the future, and what he would do when he got to Japan.

“I remember talking to your grandfather – your mother’s father – a long time ago. He was saying how people’s lives are like the seasons – spring to summer, fall to winter. You know, we say something similar in Japan, but we don’t start at spring.

“We say that when you’re born, it’s winter. Everything is frozen and still. It’s a time to absorb, and learn, and gather your strength for the long years ahead.

“Then, when you are going to school, college, university – when you’re falling in love for the first time – when your friends are growing around you – when you’re learning everything you can – when everything is new, and fresh, and you know that you will live forever! – that’s spring. Everything is possible, in spring.

“Then comes summer. In the summer, I hope your career will be firmly rooted; maybe you’ll be strong enough, and lucky enough, to start your own family. Summer months are long, and hard; there’s back-breaking work to be done in the fields, every day, under the hot sun. But this is when you find out who you are, and what you can do. And what you can’t do.

“You’re between spring and summer, Jim. You’ve got your hardest work ahead of you. But I’m sure that you’ll find your way.

“Me, my summer has finished. My hard work is over, and I’m in the best season of all: autumn. The leaves are dazzlingly beautiful, the air is crisp and clear, the harvest has been gathered. And there’s finally time to relax, to really take my time and enjoy the world.

“I look back at what I’ve done, and I’m proud and happy. I’m proud because it was hard, difficult work; and I’m happy because the hard work is over! Make sure you come over and visit as often as you can; and make sure you take care of your mother and sister, and your wife. But don’t worry about me. I’m happy, and I’m finally free.

“I look back at my life, and I think: there’s nothing to add, and there’s nothing to subtract.”