"The Nagging Pharmacy" is a record of the daily life of a pharmacist mother and her freelance daughter, and is an autobiographical novel based on the author's own experiences.
The story unfolds as the life of a mother who has run a pharmacy for many years intersects with the life of a daughter who returns to the pharmacy.
The pharmacy is more than just a place to make a living; it becomes a stage where the years accumulated by one woman overlap with the scenes of another woman facing those years.
As we follow the emotional threads of the nagging, silence, laughter, and arguments that erupt from the repetitive daily routine, we come to realize just how complex a form of love the word "care" is.

The two years and eleven months of cohabitation that followed my mother's hip surgery ultimately became a journey of closing one door and opening another.
The author tells the story of that time in a calm and unvarnished manner.
The daughter realizes as the pharmacy shutters go down and the lights go out.
That life goes on even after care ends, and that some hearts still live on.
"The Pharmacy of Nagging" is a story born from that quiet place of enlightenment.
This novel, a mixture of sorrow and compassion, affection and humor, portrays the true feelings of those who have endured love.
After reading it, one side of my heart feels warm and tingly.
The scenery of a relationship that everyone has experienced at least once comes back to life gently.

My mom's pharmacy is always a place that makes me put off urgent tasks and do annoying things.
Still, there is a world inside it.
The world I have seen, heard, and been in for a long time.
I buried my life at the local pharmacy in my memory, saying it was boring.
It wouldn't have been anything special.
I wonder if it was even sparkling.
But somehow I can't forget those days.
--- From "Opening the Pharmacy Door"

That night, I recognized my mother as a pharmacist with 45 years of experience.
And then I vaguely made up my mind.
I thought I had to do something before the pharmacy's 50th anniversary.
If we just let time pass, the traces of the lives of women who worked so long could be scattered.
I need to do for my mom what I wish someone would do for me someday.
And yet, like most people, I kept putting off that decision.
I buried that thought for years beneath the things I was doing at the time.
--- From "Nobody Knew"

There is a kind of affection that is maintained by maintaining an appropriate distance.
The relationship between Mom and Director Dal-lae seems to be somewhere between nuisance and solidarity.
Cause a moderate amount of trouble and hug a moderate amount of people.
So is that why we haven't seen each other for so long?
That must have been what a family was like originally.
Living together with old feelings, seeing my mother every day, whenever we say something, we feel bad for each other, which makes me wonder what family really is.
--- From "Precious but Annoying"

When I think about being alone, it's usually when I'm alone.
I like that time.
I like the feeling of being alone.
It is because it has kept the path I have been walking so far from being distorted significantly, even though it was difficult and awkward.
Things you have to do when you're alone.
Something I have to do because I'm alone.
Things you can do alone.
I lived as myself because I did all that.
The peaceful 'alone morning' was a time I particularly enjoyed.
When I started living with my mom, the thing I let go of was that 'alone morning time'.
--- From "2 to the power of 2, not double"

By the way, what on earth is this phenomenon?
I just accepted one person.
The amount of work I do sweeping, mopping, cooking, and cleaning around the house has not doubled compared to when I was alone, but has increased to 2 to the power of 2, and sometimes to the power of 2 to the power of N.
2 to the power of N.
This is what my younger friend, who has been married for about 10 years, said to me when I first got married to my mom and said I didn't know why I had so much to do.
“Senior, doesn’t the housework get squared instead of doubled?”
--- From "2 to the power of 2, not double"

On a slightly different note, I feel like a 'mental immigrant'.
As a single immigrant, it is difficult to establish a foothold in the intangible land called family.
Having lived alone for so long, it was very difficult for me to adjust to living with my mother.
My mother also had a really hard time with me.
If I lived with a spouse with a temper like mine, I would probably get divorced in less than 6 months, so how much worse must it have been for me to not be able to do that because she was my daughter.
--- From "Shinshinpas and Ketotop, the panacea for immigrants"

No matter how much I say next to her, it doesn't come to mind.
Something other than pharmacy work, something other than being a pharmacist.
I miss the things and spaces that will come someday, that I will have to let go of someday, but that I cannot do yet.
Breaking up won't be easy.
Foolishness will be strong.
The longing will be stronger.
Still, I hope so.
I hope I don't just lament the days to come, I hope I can let go, I hope I can picture a new me.
I hope so too.
--- From "Mom, Stop Selling Medicine"

I probably wouldn't have known that if I hadn't become a freelancer.
If I hadn't gone through a time when only I allowed myself welfare, only I cared for my achievements, and only I patted myself on the back, I would still be beyond help.
I don't know about others, but in my case, I'm glad I didn't continue to be an office worker, a full-time employee.
If I had done that, wouldn't I have been more immediate and more reckless in my emotions, and would have quickly exhausted myself like an empty can of Epquila?

--- From "'F-Killa' or 'Home Mat', That is the Question"