When this pandemic began in 2020, I lost control like people around the world.
I talked with my parents more than ever and shared almost all my time with them.
I searched for photos of my family in the past.
I walked where my late grandparents lived and kept taking pictures.
Then I tried to connect the present and the past.
It was a kind of spatiotemporal movement as if I went back to where my soul had been.
There were memories full of love and sadness.
This April, my father said, "This year's cherry blossoms don't look beautiful at all."
I couldn't help feeling the death from the scattered cherry blossoms.
It reminded me of war I didn't know.
Cherry blossoms are drawn on the fighters, and the military song says,
"Since we are flowers, we are doomed to fall. Let us fall magnificently for the country."
My grandfather went to the Pacific War.
He came back and gave birth to the daughter who gave birth to me.
I think it's a miracle.
There are countless reasons why I wasn't born here.