A blog to remember Gilles Laurent, who died in Brussels Attack in the middle of making his film about Fukushima / this blog is organized by his wife Reiko Udo

さよなら古いお家。 Good-bye to the old house.



The old house where four of us used to live when Gilles was still alive is finaly demolished. We had returned this house to the owner last sumer because it had been promised before renting it. We found a new house nearby and whenever we pass here, of course I remember of the time when he was here.



Various memories are still vivid on the screen inside my head. On the contrary now I see a sales person in businesss suit trying to sell it to a young family with a small kid. I hear the explanation behind and he says there will be three small houses on the land, which is easy to imagine according today’s housing situation. Actually the old house was quite big and had its own garden.


ジルがテロに巻き込まれたことはわかったものの、まだ消息不明だった3〜4日間のこと。彼の残した荷物に向かって、家の中で叫んでいたことを思い出す。玄関に置かれたままの靴や何もない天井に向かって、声を絞り出した。「・・帰って来い! 帰って来い!」 そして神様に向かって「私、がんばりますから。ジルが帰ってくるようだったら、どういう姿でもいいので、子供達をもう一度抱きしめられますように。それが叶うなら、後でちゃんと精進しますから。」と言ってみたりした。涙がとめどなく、ポロポロと乾いた床に落ちたことを思い出す。あれからもうすぐ1年が経とうとしている。

I remember of a few days when Gilles was still missing. I was shouting to the shoes he left and to the empty ceiling as ‘Come back! Come back!’ I spoke also to the God as ‘I will make an effort. If he can come back, he can be of any physical condition. I just hope he can hug kids once again. For that wish, I will try to be a better person for good.’ The tears fell down to dry floors. Now it is going to be one year since that time.











Now I remember these things.

The wall was old and we painted it white. He was working hard.

Lots of friends and family members came to visit Japan and they slept in this house.

In the morning there was Belgian radio via internet on his computer.

Every day was an athletic event for kids because the house had space, and we did not have to care about the noise. They wer small.

One snowy day, somebody had built a snowhouse in the attached parking.

For easter, Gilles hid chocolate eggs in the garden. The same garden became full of mosquitoes later in sumer.

There was a persimmon tree which did not bear fruits because it was cut too much in the last year.

I remember seeing his back speaking seriously to the computer with European staff about the film.

I remember of the entrance where three of us said ‘Good bye and good luck’ to Gilles departing to Belgium in one morning. It was still dark.



The house was the stage for all these memories. Now it disappeared ccompletely, and just a plain brown land appeared .




Good-bye and thank you to the old house, and to the small land.




Gilrs murmured ‘Ah, there is nothing left.’