Akatombo

Desperation is a terrifying beast when it creeps into your life. Its stench, claws and foul breath can, even from a distance, paralyze you with fear. My uncle has been battling with this monster for some time now; a fight none of us was even aware of. He’s a retired loving grandfather, still a very active karateka and the first to come help out when someone in the family is moving or has some renovation project. When I was completely broke he would invite me over for dinner and made sure I was alright. Last week he sat down in a dark room, far away from anyone he knew and downed a boatload of pills. He had lost to desperation. It was a kata he couldn’t finish. 

But there was still a spark which made him call his daughter who immediately called an ambulance. He did not want that help. He fought, trashed, lashed out. It was as if the beast was all that was still left. He was finally strapped to a bed in a psychiatric hospital, after fighting the nurses and the police. A lifelong commitment to martial arts makes for a rather difficult patient. When I told my brother all this, we looked at each other in fear. This is our blood. This is one of our role models. This beast might rear its ugly head in our lives too.  My uncle, my father and my niece are now going on a walking trip to Spain together; to heal, reflect, support and gain strength. Strength to, maybe, kill that ugly beast once and for all.

I wish I was joining them. I remember he named his karate club Akatombo and as a kid I was told it was the Japanese word for dragonfly. I just found out it’s also a children’s song from 1927, with lyrics from a poem by Rofu Miki. It’s hugely popular in Japan and that’s where he most likely got the name from.

Little red dragonfly
Resting, waiting
On the end of a bamboo pole

This poem better not be on some memorial card soon uncle, you’re a lot stronger and wiser than you think.

Sensei ni rei.