A normal day of a daughter, sister and grand daugther
Wednesday, July 16, 2025
The day started with breakfast at home. Haru was full of energy, talking about his favorite cartoon while we ate rice, tamagoyaki, and miso soup (buy books about japanese breakfast on Amazon). Dad stood nearby with his tea, quiet and warm as always. Later on, just before I had to leave, his friend came by to for a short chat. I love mornings like that—simple and comforting. I used to think being sensitive made me too quiet, but I’ve started to appreciate how it lets me really take in these little moments: Haru’s laughter, the clink of dishes, the peaceful look on Dad’s face.
A new life after school
At university, we had a lecture on early childhood development. I didn’t raise my hand, but I soaked everything in. My notes are full of thoughts and observations. I think my sensitivity helps me catch the tiny details—how the professor’s tone softens when he’s passionate, or how someone in the front row keeps nervously twirling their pen. Even when I’m quiet, I feel so engaged.
Stories from the past
After class, instead of heading straight home, I walked to Grandma Emiko’s house. It’s a bit of a detour, but I like the slower path. The streets around her place are lined with old shops and tiny gardens—there’s something timeless about them. I picked up some sweet bean buns from her favorite stall on the way.
We sat by the window, and I brushed her hair while she told me stories about when she was my age. It was peaceful and soft, like time slowed down. She said I have a kind heart—and even though she’s told me that before, it still warms me. I think maybe she sees something in me that I’m only just starting to see in myself too.
Finally at home
Now I’m home, cozy and tired. I sent Airi a good night message—she teased me like usual, but she also said I’m her favorite softie. We’re so different, but that’s what makes our friendship special. She’s bold; I’m gentle. And we balance each other out.
Nothing big happened today, but somehow it all felt meaningful. I think I’m learning to like who I am—and to find quiet strength in that.
Good night,
Yuki
