I first want to thank everyone for the positive thoughts and kind comments on my last post. They were all very appreciated and I'm sure you will hear a lot more about my new home.
A few of you mentioned how proud you are of where I've gotten to in life. My parent that is alive has also expressed how proud she is of me. I feel so grateful for all the help I've had along the way. No one gets anywhere without the help given by their support system - and I have a great support system of family and friends.
But that doesn't mean I'm not missing one person's statement of pride.
Growing up, my parents never forgot to say how proud they were of me. Whether prompted by my accomplishments, an award or two, getting a job, or even just mowing the lawn, my parents always made sure to tell me how proud they were. They weren't referring to my actions with this pride, but to my character. They were proud of who I am rather than what I did.
This has always been made clear to me.
Sadly, one of my parents passed away a year and a half ago. Their passing is how I was even able to have the down payment for a house. It sucks that out of that tragedy, I've been able to accomplish something that a lot of people my age are struggling to do. My surviving parent likes to say that it's the other's final gift to me and my sibling.
Still, I miss hearing that: "Kid, I'm proud of you."
That parent always called me "kid" when conveying their sincerity.
Last weekend (mother's day to be precise), I took some time away from unpacking to do some yard work. It was the first time in about 15 years that I'd mowed the lawn - it was also my first time using a weed whacker and boy did I cackle like an evil sidekick with that tool. I started mowing the lawn when I was about eight or nine years old. My parent, the one was responsible for the outdoor chores, had me walk with them pushing the gas guzzling lawn mover in the easy to do front yard. By the time I was ten, I was mowing the front and side yard by myself without help. Said parent who taught me was proud of my progress, but exasperated by the fact that I couldn't maintain an aesthetically pleasing straight line.
That skill took roughly another five years to master.
I don't have a power mower. My aunts gifted me a very nice push-mower (along with the all powerful weed whacker) since my lawn isn't very big. The mechanics are mostly the same, except I have nothing propelling the mower forward but my sheer stubborn pride (which I have in spades). It was a bit like a blast from the past. I felt incredibly accomplished after doing the lawn work.
I also might have worried one of my neighbors with the week whacker. They were kind enough to offer me the use of their mower until I assured them I had one.
Unfortunately, the parent who taught me to mow the lawn is the same one who passed away.
I know they'd be proud of me, but I miss hearing them say it.
Recently, I read a spinoff manga that takes place after the canonical ending of Naruto. For those of you unfamiliar with the series (and its sequel series Borutou - which should be pronounced like "bolt"), Naruto is a story about a kid growing up to be a ninja. The main character, Naruto, starts out as a twelve year old and ends when he's about eighteen. Like many series aimed at tweens and teen in the 90s and 2000s, he was an orphan who built a found family around him. There are 74 volumes of the original manga series.
The spinoff I read is called Naruto: Konoha's Story. Naruto plays a very small role in the two volume story as it primarily centers on three side characters - two of which, Kakashi and Gai, are fan favorites from the original series. The main character is really Mirai Sarutobi (or Sarutobi Mirai in Japanese). Her mother, father, cousin, and grandfather were prominent side characters in the original story. However, her father, Asuma Sarutobi, died before Mirai was even born.
Mirai's mission is to escort Kakashi and Gai - both retired and one disabled from their days as ninja - on a diplomatic survey along her country's boarder. Mirai grew up hearing about how awesome Kakashi and Gai were since they are friends of her mother and were close with her father. Mirai takes the mission very serious and worries about thieves and potential assassins around every corner (Kakashi and Gai have a lot of enemies from their ninja days). However, she can't help noticing how the mission feels more like a vacation for her two companions.
Mirai is a bit annoyed by this, until she's tempted into going somewhere that might allow her to speak to the dead.
Why is Mirai tempted? Because she desperately wishes to speak with her father. It's been made clear up to this point in the story that Mirai feels disconnected from her dad. She's heard stories about him, but never got to speak to him. She knows her teachers are proud of her, but her confidence has been shaken while on the escort mission. She wants to hear that her father is proud of her accomplishments as a ninja like he was.
(Some spoilers may follow for Naruto: Konoha's Story.)
There's a great panel where Mirai imagines walking up to her father. Asuma's back is to Mirai in the image. Her hand is stretched out, as if to tap him on the shoulder. Asuma looks like he might be about to turn around to greet her or have a meaningful conversation.
The reader turns the page and Mirai is back in the real world where a cult tries to sacrifice her. During the fight, Mirai uses her father's signature weapons to defeat her enemies. These same enemies being members of the same cult that had a hand in killing her father.
Mirai doesn't get to raise the dead and speak to Asuma like she fantasizes. Instead she gets spiritual closure by channeling her father's spirit while fighting. Kakashi at one point even seems to feel Asuma's presence behind Mirai as she's fighting.
(End of spoilers.)
If you want to know how the story ends, then I suggest picking up the manga for yourselves. However, if you're unfamiliar with Naruto, it's probably going to confuse you.
And what does me mowing the lawn have to do with this somewhat niche story?
Unlike Mirai, I got to spend roughly three decades with my deceased parent, but I understand her desire to have a conversation with that lost parent. I might not be a ninja like Mirai and Asuma, but I do lawn work like my parent. It's a lost connection to a loved one that I miss - even if it is a repetitive chore that I was connecting to them.
Thank you everyone who left me messages and the pride you feel. It won't stop me from missing the phrase: "Kid, I'm proud of you," but it reminds me of a time when I heard it frequently.
Until next week.
If you enjoyed this post (or it really pissed you off) please like, share, and/or leave a comment. I love hearing from my readers and I hope you guys like hearing from me.
