Sarashina Diary: Retold in the present tense (15)

 

I devote myself to my husband in various ways. If, however, I had served Princess Yushi, devoting myself continuously, what could I have accomplished? As I attend on and off, I achieve nothing.

As I advance in age, I feel it unbecoming to behave like a young woman. I grow ill, and cannot go out to temples for worship as I like. Even an occasional outing comes to an end. I do not feel like living long. All I worry about night and day is to see my inexperienced children become independent with my own eyes.

I look forward to the appointment of my husband as a provincial governor. In autumn, he gets a long-expected position, but not as good a one as we hope. We are very disappointed and sorry. He is appointed as the Governor of Shinano Province in the autumn of 1058. It is not as distant as the provinces where my father had been appointed to work. I often think back to the long route along which I returned to Kyoto. My husband has no alternative but to go, and we hastily make preparations. To change the route to the province to a luckier one according to the philosophy of yin-yang, he decides to start in the middle of August from the house where our daughter has recently gone to live. Without my knowing what on earth to do after he leaves me behind, the place buzzes with so many people, bursting with a noisy and chaotic energy.

My husband is accompanied by our son, Fujiwara Nakatoshi (dates unknown), who wears a striking blackish-red coat with a vibrant blue lining and aster-colored hakama, proudly carrying a long sword. My husband wears a dignified bluish-indigo coat and hakama. They mount their horses beside the veranda with grand presence.

After they depart with such a lively and bustling stir, a profound loneliness washes over me. Yet, as I hear that his province is not so distant, my heart is filled with far more hope than when my father set off for distant Hitachi Province.

The attendants who accompany him to see him off return the next day and tell me with great excitement that my husband and son made a truly majestic and triumphant departure. They also mention that they saw a very big will-o’-the-wisp at this daybreak emerge and fly toward Kyoto. I only suppose it to be from someone in my husband’s retinue. How could I possibly think the worst? My mind is entirely set on how to establish our young family in the world.