Like father, like daughter

"Come on, let's not fight and let's have a nice trip."

It was what I said when I got my sister and her husband in the car at 6am "You are more and more becoming like our father. It's the same thing father say!"

Whenever I go to Korea, my biological father takes my sister and me on a trip. "From now on, I will pay all the money, so you can eat whatever you want, not fight, and travel happily." My father always cheers up before we leaves.

But there is always a small argument. My father who has third-generation only son, whenever he talks about his son, he says, "What does a sinner who raised his child wrong have to say?" But the sister who insisted on marriage, which my father objected to, if she try to say a word, my father said, "Yes, your son is tall, so you’d be happy. This old dad takes you on a trip and buys you delicious food. But how come you don't give me anything while you make money and give it to God hard? Do to me even one tenth of what you do to God." Even if a patient sister but she is furious about religion, and hey start arguing in a fit of passion.

As soon as my short sister graduated from college, what was so urgent that she got married? The groom is tall and handsome. Fortunately, nephews are tall and handsome too. My short father said, "It was a marriage that I didn't like, and being tall is just hard to look up. It's no use"

All my siblings came to America. The older sister, responsible for being the eldest daughter, waited for the father to come after his death. My father, who is healthier and stronger in life than my sister said, "rather, going to America, where you live well, helps me. So go as fast as you can and live well.”

I am younger than my sister, but in American life, I am older than her. When my sister first came to the U.S. to settle down, she asked me to do for her every time. I help her, but when I feel bad, "sister! Where is your God that loves so much? Why do you hang on to me day in day out. Pray God to do it." My sister cried and said, "How can you talk like a father like that?” Whenever she cried, my heart became weak and said, "I got it. All right.”

I caught my sister, who came to America to avoid the father’s vitriol, again. My sister was tired from my vitriol. I was having a hard time helping her establish her immigration life. But it's nice to have a sister. I feel like I'm seeing my dead mother. The taste of food that my sister does is the same as that of my mother. No matter how angry and fussy I am, she bear it all like my mother.

Stars pour out from a quiet rural sky looking up with my sister and welcome our sister. I would like to sincerely apologize for my sin by traveling with my sister like this.