I am beginning to find that within me is a soft spot for books not originally written in English. There is something precise and powerful about stories translated from another language, especially the silences that feel somewhat intentional as opposed to awkward, the phrases that flow just a little differently from what I am used to.

One Hundred Flowers by Genki Kawamura follows the voice of a son caring for his mother as she loses herself to dementia. This novel is as realistic as it can get: the pain of memory loss. The absence, the confusion, the helplessness, the repetition. All of it too much to bear.

Reading this felt like a slow unraveling. Each page reminded me how difficult anticipatory grief can be, how forgetting is not always passive, and how our parents often remain mysterious to us, even in their vulnerable moments. Kawamura captures succinctly what it feels like to lose someone while they are still physically there.

I found myself lingering in scenes that mirrored experiences I could not yet name, recognising that it is because my parents are still healthy. Yet grief still reached the depths of my heart, leaving an ache behind. An ache of what could be. I do not think I could brave through the pain of watching a loved one fade in real time.

Perhaps that is why the story resonated more in moments than in the protagonist himself. Interestingly, he did not leave a strong impression on me (I am only noticing now that I never even mentioned his name). While some might see that as a flaw, I do not necessarily agree. A character does not need to be memorable to be well-liked. That said, a few chapters (without giving spoilers) felt somewhat jarring. Readers who prefer a tightly woven plot might find these sections distracting.

Would I recommend One Hundred Flowers? Certainly. Even if you are not typically drawn to translated works, this novel is deeply thought-provoking and explores the theme of loss with authenticity. It left me feeling a little more grateful — and reminded me to love my parents a little more today.