Canon's Diary

I woke up this morning and brushed my teeth.
Expecting another busy day ahead, I had two slices of toast for breakfast to keep my energy up.
There are still many items left on the list my father titled “Things to Do When Hidero Dies”, but taking them one by one, they aren’t all that difficult.
Leaving behind a list like this—it’s just so typical of him.

The sky is completely clear today, not a cloud in sight.
I can hear the sound of the garbage truck collecting household waste.
I’ll need to reschedule the health checkup in Osaka that was originally set for the 15th. I also contacted the tennis school to cancel today’s lesson.

Yesterday, my sister returned home, and my wife left for work this morning, so from today, I have to take care of things on my own to some extent.
A pendant I had ordered online arrived yesterday—it’s meant to hold ashes.
I gave it to my mother so she could keep a part of my father with her.

While sorting through my father’s document shelf, I came across a sealed envelope labeled “Will.”
Inside, it read:

“All of Hidero’s assets are to be inherited by his wife, Ayako Kazane. After her death, the assets are to be equally divided between their son, Masato Kazane, and their daughter, Ayaka Shindo. This will has been prepared first and foremost with Ayako Kazane’s financial security in mind, and secondly, in the hope of avoiding any unnecessary disputes between Masato Kazane and Ayaka Shindo.”

This was something my father had already told us while he was alive, and both my sister and I were aware of it.
“I know,” I said aloud, almost unconsciously, in response.

I also found a CD-R with a recording of my father playing the guitar.
He had told us, “Play this at my funeral.” I was truly glad we found it before the ceremony.

After a light lunch, I went out in the afternoon to print a photo to be used at the funeral and bought a frame for it.
When I returned home, I sat down at my computer and resumed the process of transferring names on official documents.
Meanwhile, my mother sat quietly, listening to the CD of my father playing the guitar, with his photo placed gently in front of her.