I wrote a year ago, about the death of my dear friend Nose Tsunefumi (pronounced No-say). It has been an interesting year. Not many days have gone by without me thinking of my friend who shared my birthday. I miss him. I’m sure that there are many others that miss him too. He was like a brother to everyone he met.
I remember the first time that we met. I was a missionary in Japan, just transferred to serving in the Futsukaichi area, in the Dazaifu branch (which I have heard is now a ward). I was walking from the train station to the church building in Kurume for my first district meeting in the area. We were walking down an alley, and a car pulled up beside us. The man inside rolled down his window and said, “Get in.” I am a rather distrusting person, but he eventually convinced to get in (although I don’t remember how). It turned out that the driver was Brother Nose, a member of the Church, and on his way to the same meeting we were going to.
From that first meeting, we had lots of adventures; many of them springing out of our shared birthday. He taught me how to make okonomiyaki. I gave him my English scriptures. We made ice cream. I learned from him how to make whipped cream, in the same process that I still use every year when I make Christmas cake. Brother Nose helped us teach Kawakami Jungo, who was later baptized. I know that he was very close to many people, but he was like an older brother to me.
I came home from Japan expecting to continue my relationship with Brother Nose. That has never been my way, though. My entire life I have moved from one stage to the next with clean breaks, never really looking back. I got caught up in school, getting married, having children, paying bills, finding a better job, trying to write a thesis and finish graduate school. I started many hundreds of letters to Brother Nose, but in my usual style, never finished or never sent any of them. Even my command of Japanese started to slip, after I left the Japanese major and, caught up in living my busy life, no longer had anyone to talk to. I tried several times to find a phone number for Brother Nose, but was never able to.
Then, one day in March of last year, I had a sudden desire to relearn Japaneses. I felt that I really, really needed to be able to speak and understand. Right now. So I started in manic, intense, very dense, personal Japanese refresher course. I read Japanese novels, manga, and newspapers. I watched Japanese television. I studied grammer, vocabulary, and kanji. I worked on restoring my once beautiful handwriting. I studied for two solid, crazy weeks, and then I got a call at work from my wife. She said that Brother Nose had just called her at the house, and that he would be calling me at work in just a moment. He called. We talked for several hours. If I had not just had such a deep, intense two-week review, I wouldn’t have been able to talk to him. We could have talked in English, I’m sure, but I never, ever spoke to him in English. Brother Nose’s English was beautiful. But I refused to talk to him in English. I had no need, and always wanted him to be able to express himself fully. I was inspired to start my Japanese refresher, arriving back at functional fluency just as my long-lost friend and brother called from Japan. A personal miracle.
Then last November I got a voice-mail message saying that Brother Nose died in his sleep. A phone number was left, but no other information was given. I lost that phone number before I was ever able to call it, and never found out more. Since that time, I have hoped so many times that I just imagined the voice-mail, and that each time the phone rang and the caller ID showed “unknown caller,” that it was really him, and I was wrong. But I wasn’t wrong, and he won’t be calling.
Finally, today, on the anniversary of Brother Nose’s death, I did a Google search, wondering if I could find anything new. I was able to find a Facebook message written by Matsumoto Mitsuyu, that gave me some information I did not know:
Mitsuyo Matsumoto wrote
at 7:40am on November 20th, 2008Nov 18th, Fukuoka stake Kurume ward no Nose kyodai ga nakunarimashita. shinkinkosoku deshita.
Brother Nose passed away …… b/c of myocardial infarction.
Good bye, Brother Nose. Until the day when we meet again. I will remember you, on this day, and on our birthday, and every day of my life in the things I learned from you and the adventures we shared.
Brother Nose's Signature and Address
