“Why didn’t you even cook dinner when I left for work early in the morning and came back home after finishing work in the evening? You were just lazing around painting. Same with my roommate, two big men who wouldn't budge until the little woman on the way home from work and went grocery shopping in Chinatown to put food on the table. Back then, I thought that was how it was supposed to be and made dinner for you every day. It was almost 40 years ago, but I still get angry when I think about it. Do you remember? Weren't you too harsh on me?"
My husband, who had been quietly listening, didn't apologize but said,
“I remember it, and it was too much for you. You're the reason we're here today."
"You two just stared at me hungrily. Why didn't you help me to cook and put food on the table? When you guys saw the table I set up? 'It looks like a country meal.' you guys said. I was born in Namsandong, in the middle of Seoul, and had never cooked at my parents' house. How would I know how to make food? Why didn't you help and just complain? I didn't even know I had to slice the radish thinly and salt it beforehand. You guys said it was like chewing raw radish. I didn't know I had to remove the squid's eyes, peel it, and boil it. You complained about fishing squid out of the inky broth."
"At my parents' house, we always had snacks before bed. But there were no snacks, and even if I wanted to eat something late at night, I couldn't because I didn't want to wake the roommate. I couldn't sleep well because I was so hungry. Back then, I guess I didn't realize it was hard because I was more concerned about scratching the rat flea bites that fell from the ceiling. If I went back to that time, I wouldn't last an hour. You two men were a problem, but I was foolish. It was my fault for choosing that miserable life without fear. That's why I want to live for myself now. I won't live for anyone else anymore."
"I'll support you to do whatever you want since you went through so much. Do you want to go to Seoul and get some cosmetic surgery and take a good rest?"
"How can I go that far? Flying is the hardest part. How about going to Europe and staying for a month?"
"That's too dangerous. Don't you remember when you went to Turkey and you got beaten up?"
"Getting beaten up and dying abroad might erase those old unfair memories. Wow! Why didn't I write this story in the newspaper? Can I write it in the newspaper?"
“Of course. If it makes you feel better, write whatever you want. But going to Europe alone is too dangerous. You should go to Seoul. After you fix your sagging face and get your skin removed, you’ll forget all your old memories by looking in the mirror.”
“Why do you keep suggesting I get my face done? Is my face that unpleasant to look at?”
“It’s not that. Everyone does it these days. I still see glimpses of that cute college look, so I don’t mind, but if you want to.”
“A few days ago, I asked my younger friends, ‘Should I get my face done?’ All three of them said 'no'. They said their moms had surgery to lift their faces, but it was so painful they regretted it. Now their faces are sagging again, and they said they can’t do it again because they think about how much it hurts. They told me not to touch my face and just live as I am. I'll just go to Europe for a month alone with my face drooping. Don't stop me."
I was so angry that I drank wine in broad daylight and looked out the window. The cherry blossoms, which hadn’t even dried after the rain, were shaking off the rainwater and smiling bashfully at me.