September 2023
I have a complaint to make. About Australia. I paid $79 to submit my etax return to let the ATO know that I earned $0 last financial year. Something doesn't add up here!
While I was nursing a financial stabbing, Bob had had struggles of his own that we weren’t fully aware of. Until now.
Shujin walked into the kitchen after picking up Bob from soccer training and sighed.
“The coach is displeased with Bob. He’s not staying focused on the game. He’s really slack after practice and isn’t helping with the pack up. The coach is constantly repeating instructions to him. Bob isn’t working well in the team, he doesn’t have team mentality. He’s being a bad example for the younger kids.”
I’d had a rough few days with Bob myself. But knowing that he behaves at school and behaves at soccer is somewhat of a comfort for me, albeit also a torture (he knows what’s expected, why does he behave for others but muck up for me??!!).
Hearing this from Shujin, I just burst into tears. I was at the end of my rope and now I was just so devastated. I felt so incredibly sad, this deep, deep sadness. Is my son always going to be like this? Is there any hope??
“Maybe team sport isn’t the best option for Bob,” Shujin reasoned. “Perhaps we should try out tennis. Hitting a ball might be good for his anger management. And having to stay focused the whole game with constant movement might be good for ADHD.”
He had expressed interest in tennis in the past. Bob, overhearing the whole conversation, burst out, “Yes, I want to do tennis! I hate soccer. Everyone is so bossy and I always have to sit on the bench. The coach doesn’t let me play. Can I do tennis?”
I hadn’t taken much notice, but now that we were talking about it, the last week or two - maybe more, Bob had returned from soccer training sessions unhappy. Now this seems to be the icing on the cake. We decided that quitting soccer would be a good choice.
In other areas of life, Shujin too, had made a choice. A choice he didn’t mention to me. I only found out when this parcel turned up in the mail…
I couldn’t believe it. I sent the above photo and message to a good friend straight away…
It would have been amusing if he really did need that guitar to keep him warm that night! But alas, I still loved him and forgiveness came too readily. And so, one morning as the sun streamed in through our bedroom window, my mind no longer thinking about guitars but houses, I rolled over and glanced out the window and then spoke to my husband, Shujin.
“How many bedrooms do you think that house has?” referring to the house next door.
“Probably three rooms” Shujin replied. Japanese houses don’t usually count bedrooms, but rooms. So I take that to mean you might need to use the tatami room as a bedroom.
“Why?” he queried.
“I’d love to live next door.”
Not sure if it was exhaustion from sharing our house-built-for-two with nine people for five weeks, or a few times some relatives got under my skin, or the fact that Okasan is doing well and I feel we could have some space a part, but whatever it was, I’d woken up with the thought and couldn’t hold it in.
The house had been vacant ever since we came here. The granny that lived there had moved into a nursing home. Her children came from time to time to maintain it, but mostly it hadn’t been touched. All this time it has just sat there, and why it is now that I think about it moving into it, I’m not sure. Probably all the above factors rolled into one!
“Can we ask if they’ll sell it to us?” My question sparks discussion, pros and cons and the conversation ends with Shujin happy to make the enquiry.
The house is small with a verandah across the front. I’d never been inside so had no idea what we’d find, but from the outside it looks very livable. It’s right beside our house (location, location!) so we can still care for Okasan, but also have our own space. She can easily walk over and eat meals with us. We can easily walk over and check-in on her.
The children could have their own bedrooms (I anticipate!) and much needed personal space. I could have mine.
Living in a separate house we would no longer need to fix the sewerage at Okasan's house as it wouldn't be getting overloaded anymore (the house would built-for-two people, NOT six!!). If I had to choose between digging a three metre deep hole (that might not fix the problem), or moving my things next door, I'd choose the latter.
Our yard is mostly shady and the non-shady area where a vegetable garden would go best is where the kitchen wastewater runs out. We've been talking about making raised garden beds so that we don't contaminate the veggies. But next door the vegetable gardens are in a nice sunny space. No need to build raised garden beds, win!
We've been dreaming about building a verandah on Okasan's house to extend the living space. But if we move next door it won't be necessary to expand this house, and that house already has one, win!!
So over the last week or so, when Bob does something, again, to purposefully annoy Okasan, I live in hope that soon we'll possibly be in our own house and these annoying altercations will be minimal. Or when the children fight and I can't separate them into their own rooms, I live in hope that we might soon live in a house where they can have their own bedrooms. Or when the sewerage man comes to pump another 2 tonnes of sewerage from our septic system and I hand over the ¥25,000 (about $300) I live in hope that that will be the last time.
As the days roll on and challenges pop up I get through, living in hope that maybe soon I'll be in my own space. Hope is such a beautiful and powerful thing.