Saturday, October 17, 2020

Mom is getting smaller

 “Mom, why are you getting smaller?” 
Remember you said, stroking my head every time you got bigger? Whenever I heard that, it sound like, 'Mom, why are you so old?' I was happy that you guys were growing up well, rather than being sad that I was getting old. 

 I was always short when you guys were born and raised in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, graduated from school, worked in another country, and returned home. By the time you guys read this, I'm either too old or I may be not in this world. I don't think I can accurately tell the fainted memories even if I'm alive. So I have been recording the days that will be forgotten and disappear from a long time ago. 

 My father who is your grandpa used to pick me up at the bus stop when I came home after school. Your grandpa grabbed my hand and shook and urged me to tell the story of what happened at school. He also told me his turbulent story while drinking before dinner. 

 I had believed such a healthy grandfather did not grow old or die, and only believed that he would gladly tell me the story whenever I called him. Then one day, I felt very sad when I realized that your grandfather was small and old. 
"Daddy, do you write down the stories that you didn't tell me?" 
Even if grandfather died, I asked for the idea that it would be nice if I could live by looking at his notebook he left behind. Of course, I wanted to continue the conversation with your grandfather even after I came to America, so I sent a long letter, one or two times a week. The letter was collected by grandfather and sent to me before he died. As if talking about yesterday's incident, it is a precious and affectionate record with vivid memories of your grandfather. 

 You guys think I am healthy and you don't have time to read my writings because you spend time with a girlfriend or dog. However, there will be times when you also want to recall memories of me one day. Those memories become more precious as we get older. If we don't write it in text, it will fade and disappear. Though I am not good at English, I translated all my writings I had written, because you guys speak Korean well, but it is not easy to read and write. 

 It is said that people live with memories before the age of 20. I also lived my life based on the memories and love I had with my mother and father when I was a child. Records do not remain only as records, but live together as an extension of life. I feel more and more desperate that I don't want to miss the fading memories. I hope you guys also write down your life. If you want to keep a record of your life, you have no choice but to be faithful to your life. 

 I hope my records give you courage and help you guys live a happy life.

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