Dear my friend K

The other day I received an email that starts "I have very sad news that I have to tell you."
And my heart started pounding with fear.

I became to know that our friend K died.  And that happened more than a year and half ago.
She was an editor.  I googled her name and found that she was hit by a motorbike when she was riding her bicycle to go home.  She was killed on the spot.  After police investigation her body was sent to her home in south Japan.

I closed my computer to breathe. 
I said to K that I was so sorry for not knowing about that for more than a year.  I had a baby K, and I didn't even tell you about that.  No no, you were not there already when I had a baby.  But if I emailed you about the baby thing, I would have found that something was wrong with you.  Shall I explain why I didn't tell my friends in Japan that I had a baby?  If I do, I know that you will laugh. 

K, but you might not be a baby person like me in the past.  And you would still give me a nice, well selected gift as usual saying that "Hey I don't know how to play with a baby!"

You have small hands, and when I tell you good news, you clap your little hands like a child for joy.  At the same time you are a cynical observer.  That's what I like about you.


You looked bored when we talked about boys when we were in college.  You had never worn skirts in my memory.  You had never talked about your love stories.  Did you ever have your love, partner or whatever it is?  We didn't ask you about that, never.  Your face expression told us not to ask about it.  Don't feel bad.

Do you think you would wear my jewelry?  You don't wear delicate thing, your kind of jewelry will be a simple organic shaped silver ring.  I make things like that too, you know?  I bet you say that you want to wear that on your pinky.

You know we loved you. 
You were K, one and only.