Tōrō nagashi

I recently received a letter from the synagogue reminding me of my father's Yahrzeit coming up later next month. My god, was it really four years now that he has been gone? I was feeling a bit down reflecting on it, and I recalled the 'memory day' story from the Astro Boy manga and anime. I'm sure that this story was based on the Japanese Tōrō nagashi custom, and I imagined seeing the boats with their lanterns floating down a river...

After having put two children through college, and suddenly realizing that we were now on our own; the two of us pondered what was left in life for us, with the realization that while our health was still good enough to allow us to enjoy our presence in the world, we were enjoying it on borrowed time.

I've started feeling some depression, knowing that there are now more years behind me than ahead. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to enjoy life, and I think I'd rather just end it rather than finding myself bedridden, blind, or senile. So I try to look for the the good things left in life, and sometimes find myself looking inward at the past. I've got to find a way out of this feeling somehow. Travel was one idea, to see some of the world while we could still enjoy it.

Well, there are many places my wife and I had always wanted to visit, but we had the resources to only hand pick a short list. Top on my wife's list were Israel and Alaska, on opposite sides of the world. At one time I would have wanted to see Europe, but somehow that now jaded me. Neither of us were very religious, so the holy land might have been the 'proper' thing to do, but it actually felt alien to me in a way. By heading west, instead of east, we had been able to visit some relatives in California, drive up the Pacific coast highway, catch a cruise to Alaska, and then return via a long air route which would take us to Japan and Hawaii. The more exotic side of the world.

My wife and I crossed the bridge halfway and gazed over the water at the river; which was covered by small paper boats, each carrying a small lantern. An old man accompanied by two children had also stopped in the middle of the bridge, they appeared to have the same idea that we had in watching the procession of boats drifting downstream. It was a beautiful display of lights, and we wondered what was the special occasion for it all.

The young girl spotted us, and she walked over to my wife and smiled up at her and said, "Pretty isn't it?"

We both looked down at her. She was probably just under four feet tall with large beautiful brown eyes, and dark black hair done up in two bangs held up with a good amount of hair spray. She wore a cute red dress with a short skirt.

"Yes, it is." We both replied in stereo.

"What does it mean?" I asked.

The old man walked over to us, followed by a young boy. The man was bald with two remaining batches of gray and white hair just above each ear. He had a prominent nose, and was shorter than my wife by quite a few inches.

"We call it Tōrō nagashi, it's a celebration of the remembrance of loved ones who are no longer with us." he explained.

"You mean it's a memorial festival?" my wife asked.

"In a way. But it's also a celebration of life. Buddhists believe in reincarnation, so the spirits of the departed are still with us in some other form." He added. "Other religions believe, the spirit goes to a better place."

"He means Heaven." The girl sighed. "I wonder if Hoshie is in heaven now?" she added.

"Who is Hoshie," I asked.

"She might have been my mother," The boy sighed. He walked over to his sister with his head hanging down as he kept is gaze on the ground. The lad had the same dark brown eyes and dark hair as his sibling. He wore short dark pants, a button up shirt, and red boots which came up about halfway on his calves.

"It's not easy for them." The old man sighed. "They don't understand death, and they worry about what will eventually happen to them. It's the curse of their being, I suppose."

There was a bench at the crest of the bridge, it was just long enough for the five of us to sit down facing the water. The old man sat in the middle with a child on either side of him. My wife sat on one end of the bench next to the girl and I on the other end next to the lad.

"Curse?" I asked the Old man.

"That's because we don't have souls," the boy sighed.

I looked at him and wanted to laugh. "Only evil people don't have souls. You don't look evil to me."

"But we're not people," the girl sighed. "We're artificial life forms, isn't that right Dr. Elfun?"

The old man looked at my wife and I in turn, and then faced the river.

"As you know, Japan has a long history with robotics and artificial intelligence, or AI. It started with machines to supplement factory labor, and progressed to assistants to the elderly and the infirmed. Eventually the AI became good enough that it could mimic a human quite well. A few years ago, a scientist who was a close friend of mine, created a robot to replace his lost son. He later went insane from his grief and I ended up as the boy's guardian. A copy was made in female form as well." The old man patted the girl on her head.

"The poor kids think that if humans have souls which are created by God, then what do they have? Their self awareness is man made, so logically they can't be souls. The poor things are convinced that there is no place in heaven for them when they eventually expire. And I'm not going to be there for them much longer either. I don't know what will happen to Tobio and Uran when I'm gone." He concluded, sighing.

I'm no Rabbi, or Priest. I'm not a philosopher either. But I've had some time to think about my end. I've tried to come to some terms with what I know from science, and what I've been taught about my religion. Many famous scientists have not been able to marry the concepts of religion and science, and have simply taken on atheistic views. Einstein kept a bit of his faith, though his view of God was not a traditional one. Maybe I've seen things a bit like Einstein, but I've been able to keep some of my faith, in spite of modern science.

I put a hand on Tobio's shoulder and looked at him.

"You know, when my twin daughters were born, all they did was cry, sleep, and eat. They sometimes smiled at me or my wife, they were happy to be in the presence of their parents. But sometimes, especially in the middle of the night, they appeared mindless to me. Once they woke up in a panic state, it was like no one was at home inside their heads. I came to the conclusion that people might be born with blank souls or persona's, that had to be developed by life experience. I think the human brain is a kind of biological computer that is programmed to program itself. We become what we are exposed to, molded by how we are treated. I think you two are the same. You have souls because you were programmed by the world that God made."

Tobio looked up at me a asked "Do you really think so?"

I smiled down at him and replied. "I'm sure of it."

"Then we will both go to heaven when we die?" Uran begged.

My wife looked at her and said, "Well, I would hope that will be a long time from now."

We had to accept hugs from both of them, before we could make our way, hand in hand, back over the bridge to our hotel. We waved goodbye to the three of them, and I felt just a little better about facing my own mortality.

We enjoyed our final days in Japan, and then spent half a week in Hawaii before flying back home. I hope I will take the memory of the sight from the bridge with me to my grave. It was such a beautiful moment, and meeting those two innocent children lifted my spirits.

Thank you Tobio. Thank you Uran.

And bless you, Dr. Elfun.