There was a woman who came from America to travel alone.
When she stayed in this hotel, she saw a picture on the wall and shed tears.

“We had been married for 20 years.
It was on the campus of our university that I met him for the first time.
It was a pleasant early summer afternoon in California under a blue sky.
He was three years older than me and a short-distance track athlete.
He had a bright smile, and I fell in love with him at first sight.
We started dating, got married when I was 25, and 20 years passed.
He worked in sales for a sports medical systems company and had a successful career.
We were well off.

He was quiet and always gentle.
We had two children. Busy but peaceful and happy days passed.
Looking back, 20 years passed in the blink of an eye.
Our children went to universities and moved into dormitories. I spent more time alone in the big house.
My husband became an executive in the company. He went abroad on business and was away from home more often.


Because I had less and less time with my husband, I had the feeling that my husband and I were growing apart.
Whenever he went on a business trip, he would buy me a souvenir.
When he returned from his trip, he would tell me stories about the countries he had visited.
Since he was usually very quiet, I even suspected that he had something to hide.
In particular, he often talked happily about Japan, a country he had visited many times.
He talked about the food in Japan and how people waited in line for trains.
The quiet and considerate nature of the Japanese seemed to suit him.
The gift he bought for me in Japan was a picture by a Japanese artist.
It was a picture of a cat and was more like a drawing than a painting. I loved it the first time I saw it, and it still hangs on my kitchen wall.

I didn’t know how lucky I was to have him with me every day as a matter of course.
One phone call changed everything.
It was a call telling me that my husband had fallen ill at work.
I rushed to the hospital. But, by the time I got there, he had already passed away.
How much time have I spent since then?
My grief grew, I realized that I loved him deeply, and my love for him only grew.
And even though I thought I understood my husband, I realized that I didn’t know what he was feeling and what he was really thinking.
So, I decided to visit Japan, a country he had visited and seemed to enjoy talking about the most.
He was a very organized person, so he kept a notebook of the hotels, stores and tourist spots where he visited. This allowed me to trace his path.

I came to a new resort hotel on the Shirahama Coast in Wakayama Prefecture, Japan.
The hotel staff were kind and courteous.
Since I had previously explained the purpose of my visit, I was taken to the room where he had stayed.
As I entered the room, a picture on the wall caught my eye.
I noticed that it was drawn by the same artist as the picture he had bought me as a gift and which I had displayed in my kitchen.
It was a drawing of a woman.
A booklet was placed beside the picture. There was a profile of the artist in it and I learned that the artist had also passed away.
I heard that he had enthusiastically asked the hotel staff to sell him this artist’s picture.
It was probably because he thought I would like it very much.
He understood me.
Looking at the picture, I found myself in tears.”

Every picture has a story behind it. However, this is not something that everyone who visits the room will notice.
More often, it may be just a picture hanging on the wall.
But it does have a story that can speak directly to someone’s heart and become a lifelong memory.

The Story behind the Picture.