"Last year I had my first experience of undergoing surgery and being hospitalized.
After the surgery, I was in a fuzzy haze as a result of the anesthesia, transferred to a dimly lit recovery room. There was no real feeling, only a dull pain and a sense of nausea and I was not sure of my condition; whether I was still living or whether I was dying. Even if someone said something to me, it was difficult to understand or even open my eyes.I was terribly anxious, feeling as though I had been left behind in the murky darkness.

In the middle of that darkness, there was just one thing that I could feel and that was the hands of the nurses.
Each time one of the nurses would touch my head or body, I felt deeply secure, as if embraced within a warm, gentle light. It might be a bit exaggerated to say that this was what kept me connected to life, but in the middle of wandering through the darkness where I could not hear or see anything, it was the feeling of touch that let me know I was still alive.

Perhaps it is the feeling, not words or other things, which remain inside a person the longest.
As time flows by, memories fade away. Yet, it is the feeling from a moment of small joy or sensing beauty that will remain deep inside the heart, definitely not to be forgotten. It is those feelings that remain, always there to wrap me in a gentle radiance, as if large snowflakes falling in the dark of a Spring night."

- Naomi SHIGETA