After the Banquet

When in New York, Maria worked for a quasi-government organization, where she acquainted with fellow expatriates.  Many of them were Japanese government and industry officials who were stationed at the same organization.  After they returned to Japan, they kept in touch by having an annual reunion.  Maria was one of the regulars to attend.


One of the attendees took a photo of Maria that day and e-mailed it to somebody I knew.  He in turn forwarded it to me.  It was how I came to know Maria was diagnosed with ALS, given one year to live.


In the photo, Maria was on a wheelchair with a bouquet of flowers on her lap, holding center stage with a mike.  She looked just like how she was always, radiant and happy.


Naively I believed her demeanor.


Several months later she confided in me in a frail voice.
One of the attendees asked her if what she had was communicable.
"Don't be silly, it is not," she shrugged off, taking as a joke.
"Thank goodness," he said.


It hurt, she confided.
Yes, It must have hurt deep.

By J. Ujiie