今日は私の Soul Mates　をご紹介します。Soul Matesとは直訳すれば「魂の友」とでも言いましょうか。はじめの２つの写真が私の魂の友です。お互いにつねに会っていなくても、いつも話をしていなくても、心が通じ合っている人々です。はじめの写真は“おはぎ”、正真正銘の犬です。おはぎの育ての親、相澤登喜恵さんによれば、もらってきたときに小さくてぼたもちのようだったから“おはぎ”と名づけられたそうです。２人目はゴリラ。というより、地上から消滅しつつあるゴリラの絵を描き続けている、相澤登喜恵さんです。右横の写真が２人の写真です。

彼女は中学に入ったときからの友達です。彼女は覚えていないでしょうが、入学式で私の隣に座っていました。彼女は親分肌で友達に慕われていましたので、いつも仲間と一緒でした。[良妻賢母]を育てる女子学校でしたけれど、彼女の仲間はいろいろいたずらをしていたようで、私は仲間に入りたいという夢はかないませんでした。私は一見「優等生」タイプでした。本の虫だった私は、カフカやサルトルを読んで“疎外感”とはこんなものかなと一人で孤独を噛み締めていました。

同じ女子校に通っていた頃は手紙を時々交わしていたくらいで、別に親しい友達ではありませんでした。なぜか、本当に不思議なのですけれど、それぞれ別の大学を出て彼女は絵描きになり、私はふらふらとアメリカを放浪するにつれて交友は深まりました。

“おはぎ”は私の、ある意味で真の「魂の友」です。私は野良猫を何匹も育てていて、「猫語」は話せますが、「犬語」は全然知りません。でも“おはぎ”と私は言葉なしで分かり合えます（と私は思っています。“おはぎ”は‘ふん、なにを勝手なこと言っているの’とでもおもっているでしょうが。）私の心に深く刻まれた２つの出来事をご紹介します。

何年も前、相澤さんはチェーン・スモーカーのようにタバコを吸いました。ある日、私の前で吸っていたとき、「もうタバコやめたら。あなたの身体に悪いし、周りの人にもセカンド・ハンド・スモークで迷惑かけているのよ」とかなんとかくだくだと文句を言っていました。するとそばで寝そべっていたおはぎがすっと立って、縁側のガラス戸の引き手を無言でひいて開け、空気を入れ替えました。私は彼女（おはぎ）に感嘆して声もでませんでした。

昨年秋、おはぎに会いに行きました。おはぎの調子がずっと悪くて、心配していました。歩くのが大変らしく、階段の上がり降りは相澤さんの助けが必要でした。私がもうお暇しなければならなかったとき、おはぎは相澤さんに助けられて縁側を降りて庭にいました。私も庭に出て、おはぎにお別れのあいさつをしました。家に戻り玄関のあがりまちで相澤さんとあれこれ話していました。ふと、耳に何かが触ったように感じました。振り向くとおはぎなが鼻をすりよせているのです。おはぎはひとりで縁側をあがって私にさようならを言いにきてくれたのです。涙があふれだした私はおはぎに抱きつきました。ひととおり私にあいさつをすると、おはぎは相澤さんのそばにぴったりと座りました。‘お見舞いありがとうございました。私と相澤さんは大丈夫ですから、心置きなくお帰りください。’とおはぎの目は言っていました。

おはぎは昨夏、病気が重くなり、あと２、３日とお医者さんから言われました。自分の身を削っての相澤さんの看病で、おはぎは持ち直しています。一番はじめの写真は今年１月１１日にとったものです。自由に動けなくなったおはぎは、彼女のこの世に稀な美しい目で、人間を含めたすべての生き物に、愛と励ましを与えているのです。

一番下の写真は、何年か前に相澤さんが私に送ってくれたはがきです。私にとっても彼女が生きていること自体が、私の生きていることの支えです。相澤さんが書いてくれたこの言葉が、「魂の友」の本当の意味と私は思います。人間に一言も抗議の言葉を話せないまま地上から消えていく動物の肖像画を描き続けている彼女のことは、又の機会にお伝えしたいと思います。

I had been on dialysis from more than two years before the transplant. Instead of going twice weekly to a hospital for hemodialysis, I chose peritoneal dialysis which I could administer at home three times a day. I was OK, but fatigue and nausea always followed me.

The transplant was nothing like any other surgeries I had experienced. Day by day I felt my body and mind become stronger and clearer as if my donor had infused her life into my body. Ah, this is life, I thought. Now, I’ve been given a second chance to live by her and her family’s generosity.

In 1997 the Japanese Diet finally passed the bill legalizing organ transplants. Many Japanese have difficulty accepting the idea of organ donation from brain dead persons who are being kept alive on respirators. People believe that the body should be kept in tact until cremation. I witnessed the reverence for the deceased body when I was a little girl. After the passing of my paternal grandfather, the family and friends gathered by his bedside. He was specially dressed in a white kimono, which pilgrims wear when visiting temples. He was wearing a pair of straw sandals. And the mourners massaged his legs through the night, believing he had to make a long journey to heaven. They needed to be with his entire body and to do something to help him so that they could convince themselves that he was safely parting from them.

The question of how to determine death may never be resolved. As a person who received an organ from a deceased donor, the only thing I can do is show people how wonderful life is and shower them with rays of sunshine that my kidney donor gave to me. By the way, I disliked being exposed to direct sunlight before the transplant. I would rather sit under the shade of a tree. Now I am a sun-worshipper.

The following is a letter to my donor’s family from me 14 months after the transplant. I sent this letter through an organization without signature. I do not their names, and they do not my name.

“While it is difficult to express the depth of my gratitude in words, I have decided, at last, to the make the attempt. On October 2, 1991, through your extraordinary generosity at a time of great personal tragedy, I was the recipient of a kidney. When I first heard from the hospital that they had a kidney for me, I could not believe it. I had been waiting for one for over two years. From the start of my dialysis in 1989, I had placed my name on a waiting list for a kidney transplant. For the next two years, I was able to survive and function through the assistance of CAPD dialysis, a never-ending procedure for which I am greatly indebted. Although dialysis enabled me to do everyday chores, I had little energy and was unable to continue my career as a pianist.

The miracle of a transplant dawned on me just two mornings after my surgery. For the first time in several years, I woke up so refreshed as if the dense mist in my head had finally lifted. Though my body had pains and discomfort from the operation, the joy of life ran through every vein; it was a sensation that I had not felt for a long, long time.

I was born in Yokosuka, Japan, a mid-sized city near Tokyo. I finished university there and came to the United States, first Michigan and then the University of Wisconsin, in order to pursue a graduate degree. While attending Wisconsin, I met my husband, an American who teaches Japanese history. After we relocated for his job, I started to study piano again. To become a pianist was my childhood dream. And I found my role in introducing American contemporary music to Japanese audiences, and Japanese contemporary music to American audiences. I was giving concerts in Japan and United States before the dialysis. But I had to stop giving recitals once the dialysis started. It was difficult to travel with all of the necessary medical equipment, and even with help from my husband and friends, I found that I simply lacked the energy to give an on-stage performance.

My transplant has turned out to be a wonderful success. I have not had any rejection episodes, which more than 90% of transplant recipients usually experience. After fourteen months, I continue to do very well. I have been practicing piano hard for some time, and started giving recitals in my area. I am also planning recitals in New York and Tokyo.

My husband and I do not have any children, only a pair of overly indulged cats. I consider myself very fortunate to have had the opportunity to come to the United States. I have lived in this country now for more than twenty years, and I’ve learned the true greatness of this country: kindness toward those in need and generosity toward different kinds of people be they friends, relatives, or total strangers. The only way to repay the precious gift you gave me — life — is to do my best to be helpful to others with the strength and generosity you showed me.

Thank you.”