What happened to my mom?

I waited for bus number 78 to Itaewon. I waited for a long time, but the bus didn't come. The bus that came after a long time stopped far away. I run after the bus to catch, but the bus left.

I walked a long way to the house. I looked for my mother in the house, but I couldn't find her. When I asked my father, he said, she went to a temple. After waiting a few days, my mother didn't come back. I wandered around the mountain looking for a temple that my mother went to, but I couldn't meet her.

But isn't my mom in white clothes standing behind the bus, beckoning to me? I followed the bus with all my strength, but the bus went out of sight. I flopped down in my seat, cried, and woke up from my dream.

The classroom door opened and a student came to deliver something to the teacher. My heart sank. I waited as if I was sentenced to death. Then, I spent my school days breathing long relief if it's not about my mother.

While playing outside, I was worried that my mother was dead in the meantime. I had to check my mom first and then I put my school bag down. I used to listen to my mother's heart beating in my ears. Or I could relax only by making sure she was breathing with my hands under my mother's nose.

My mother lost a lot of blood when she gave birth to my younger sister, who is five years younger than me. And she suffered from a hormone-related illness. I still don't know the exact name of the disease. All I remember is my mother, who was always in and out of the hospital and lying sick.

I used to think I didn't know when my mother would die. If my mother recovered from her illness and whenever she went out, I followed after her everywhere. I used to follow my mother who went to a temple for worshipping. When she visited the relatives, I held onto the pillars of the relative’s house and waited for my mother to come out. My mom scolded me who follow her wherever she went. In spite of mom's scolding, I couldn't speak that 'I'm chasing mother for fear of mom dying.' It was easier to keep my mother close and wait for her than to worry about her while she was away.

As I got older, I left my mom because I thought I had to go my way. At first, I often called and wrote the letters, but I was busy living. My mom, who was standing behind the bus in white and waving, must have come to me to say goodbye before go to a place far away where we can never see again.

I went to my mother's grave buried in a lonely hill overlooking the river. I lie down on her grave and expecting if I might ever hear my mother's "How are you?" but all I can hear is the sound of the river.