Healing the Inner Child: Episode 2

Healing the Inner Child: Episode 2

Memories in a Gift

The department store was livelier than usual on a weekend. Families with children, couples, and fashionably dressed students carrying shopping bags filled the floor. The vibrant energy was palpable, and it gave an unexplainable bounce to my step.

Having successfully purchased a Mother’s Day gift, she seemed relieved and immediately began browsing for her own interests. It was typical of her to get absorbed in shopping, and I braced myself for a potentially dull stretch of time. But today, I decided to take preemptive action.

“I’m hungry. Let’s grab lunch somewhere.”

Her eyes lit up at my suggestion. “Great idea! Oh, I know just the place!” she exclaimed, her excitement making me smile. The restaurant she chose was a Thai place she’d enjoyed with friends. Not a fan of spicy food, I hesitated but eventually agreed—after all, she’d been kind enough to help me with the gift shopping.

Thanks to our early timing, we didn’t have to wait long to be seated. As she flipped through the menu, her enthusiasm was contagious. “This looks good, but so does that one. What do you think?” she said, her voice filled with indecision.

Meanwhile, I stared at the unfamiliar dish names, each seemingly spicier than the last. Overwhelmed, I decided to follow her lead and ordered her recommendation.

“Lucky me! Now I get to taste both!” she laughed, her joy easing my apprehension about the meal ahead.

As we waited for our food, she suddenly turned to me. “You were so serious about picking out that gift earlier. It was like I couldn’t even interrupt you.”

“Was I?” I replied, surprised. “I thought I was just being thorough.”

Thinking back to our time at the gift section, I recalled how I had peppered the store clerk with questions. It wasn’t like me to be that meticulous about shopping.

“I wouldn’t say it’s unlike you,” she continued, “but it felt like you were really putting your heart into it. Was it because you wanted to make your mom happy? That’s so sweet of you.”

Her words made me feel a bit self-conscious, so I diverted my gaze to the window. Reflected in the glass, I caught sight of myself, and an old memory surfaced.

I remembered a trip to Australia, where I had picked out a colorful mug as a souvenir for my mom. Handing it to her, I was nervous, but her response stayed with me to this day.

“You’re always so thoughtful with your gifts,” she’d said. “Thank you.”

The warmth of her words had filled me with joy. Even now, I often saw that same mug in her kitchen. It wasn’t expensive or extravagant, yet it held immense value—for both of us.

I shared this story with her, and she listened intently. “That’s such a beautiful memory. No wonder you’re so thoughtful with gifts,” she said with a smile.

“Come to think of it, every gift you’ve given me shows how much you’ve thought about me,” she added. “Remember that oil heater? It’s been a lifesaver!”

Her words made me chuckle, but they also left me pondering. Why was I so particular about choosing gifts? Even when shopping for her, I’d spent hours researching and deliberating. This level of effort was far beyond my usual approach to shopping.

The question lingered as we finished our meal and resumed her shopping. She flitted from store to store, joyfully picking up items and debating their merits. I watched her, lost in thought.

By the time we headed back to the car, the sun had set, and the evening sky was tinted with the orange hues of twilight. Through the windshield, a soft orange moon hung low, casting a tranquil glow. For some reason, the moon’s light felt comforting, as though it was watching over me.

Lately, whenever I saw the moon, I found myself thinking about Okane-san. Ever since our first exchange, something within me had subtly shifted. The moon seemed to embody those changes, its serene presence mirroring the quiet transformation in my heart. The thought brought a sense of calm, warming me from within.

After dropping her off and returning home, my phone chimed with its familiar notification tone.

Ka-ring.

The sound echoed through the quiet room. I picked up my phone and saw a message from Okane-san waiting on the screen.

“Okane-san: The answer to your question might lie with your inner child.”

My eyes lingered on the unfamiliar term—“inner child.” Something about it intrigued me, drawing me in.

“Inner child…?” I murmured, typing out a response almost instinctively.

To Be Continued in Episode: 3″Listening to the Voice of Childhood”