A waiting man

"Shall we leave at 3 o'clock?"

I said this because I had a gathering to attend with my husband.

"Why leave so early? Do you want to wait around on the street? Let's leave at 3:30," he replied.

"Here you go again. All you'd have to do is say, 'Okay,' but you always twist things and make everything more complicated. Fine, let's each leave whenever we want and just meet at the gathering," I said.

I feel comfortable to go alone rather than listen to his constant negativity.

When we arrived at the gathering where we were invited, even before I could start chatting with my long-time friends, he started giving me signals to leave. At social gatherings, he pokes me and urges me to leave early, which makes me try to avoid him.

"Why are you already wanting to leave as soon as we arrive? If you want to go home so badly, go ahead. I'm staying longer," I said.

I made an effort to stay far from him, avoiding eye contact. He hovered around me and eventually approached, saying,

"Isn't it time to leave now?"

"Why don't you just leave if you want to? I said I'd stay longer."

"It's frustrating. Fine, I'll wait outside. Take your time talking and come out when you're ready."

"I'm going to stay a long while. Why are you waiting outside? Don't wait for me. Just let me do things my way," I replied.

After chatting with my friends for a long time, I noticed that it had become quiet around me. My husband had disappeared. Thinking he had gone home, I felt at ease and fully immersed myself in the conversation.

As the gathering was winding down, someone said,

"Senior, it's been so long since we last met. It's too bad to part ways now. Let's go to a café and talk more."

"That sounds great. Let's do that," I replied.

As we opened the door to leave, my husband's large face was right there waiting for me.

"Oh my gosh, you scared me! Why are you still here? I thought you went home."

"I was just watching people pass by while waiting for you to come out," he said.

I apologized to my friend.

"I'm afraid if I don't go home, he'll just keep standing outside. Let's continue our conversation next time."

I walked in the direction of our house with my husband. I felt a little guilty.

"Thanks for waiting for me," I said.

"I was worried something might happen if you came home late at night by yourself, so I waited," he replied.

"Instead of waiting on the street like that, when I tell you the time I want to leave, it would be nice if you just said, 'Okay,'" I said.

For 40 years, I’ve endured his burdensome displays of affection and his habit of twisting everything I say. Sometimes, I envy the freedom of being single.

싱글인 줄 알았는데

사람의 머릿속은 그 사람이 일상적으로 들고 다니는 가방 속과 그 사람이 사는 집안 속과  같다고 한다. 

오래전, 겨울이 끝나가는 화창한 날 그녀의 전화를 받았다. 반가웠다. 중요한 서류를 룸메이트가 뒤질까 봐 몽땅 들고 다니는 그녀가 또 그 무거운 주홍색 백팩을 메고 나올까?’ 궁금했다. 맨해튼 다운타운 워싱턴 스퀘어에서 만났다. 나는 봄볕에 달구어진 벤치에 등을 기대고 앉아 있었다. 멀리서 주홍색이 세월의 때가 묻어 갈색이 된 백팩을 메고 구부정하게 걸어오는 그녀를 금방 알아봤다. 그녀는 가방이 안전하고 편하도록 벤치에 기대놓고 자신은 의자 끝에 히프를 살짝 얹은 불편한 자세를 취하더니 쑥스러운 표정으로 나를 쳐다봤다. 

“백팩이 지난번 만났을 때보다 더 커진 것 같아요.”

“무게는 별반 달라진 것이 없는데, 남편과 이혼한 서류를 넣었더니.”

“결혼했었어요? 나는 싱글인 줄 알았는데.”

“먹고 살길이 막막해서 어린 나이에 한국에 파견된 미군과 결혼하고 조지아로 왔어요. 미국 하면 화려하고 좋은 줄만 알았지 그렇게 깡시골에 많은 식구와 일가친척이 모여 사는 줄은 몰랐어요. 남편은 술만 마시면 얼굴값 하는 화냥년이라며 저를 두들겨 패기 일수였어요. 그곳에서 버티다가는 죽겠구나 싶어 뉴욕으로 도망 왔지요. 보시다시피 제 얼굴이 조금 반반하지 않나요?”

얼굴에 여드름 자국이 드문드문 있긴 하지만, 흰 피부, 짙은 쌍꺼풀 눈, 적당히 솟아오른 코, 뚜렷한 인중 밑에 얇은 입술은 말할 때 떨리는 듯했다. 꾸미지 않고 뒤로 질끈 묶은 머리털은 거칠었다. 짊어진 커다란 가방에서 시선만 떼고 자세히 관찰했다며 예쁜 얼굴임을 알아봤을 것이다. 몸매 또한 옷만 제대로 걸치고 돌덩어리 같은 주홍색 백팩 없이 똑바로 섰더라면 팔다리가 길고 균형 잡힌 체형이다. 허스키 목소리는 쾌활하게 톤을 높였다가 금방 축 처지는 공허한 낮은 소리로 일관성 없이 수시로 변했다. 그녀의 기분 또한 각양각색으로 나타났다. 말을 멈추고 지나가는 사람들을 눈여겨보는가 하면 불안한 자세로 몸을 웅크리고 뭔가 두려운 듯 두리번거렸다. 나와 눈이 마주치면 깜빡했다는 얼빠진 표정의 씁쓸한 미소로 허리를 펴고 다시 이야기를 시작했다. 아마 자신의 지난 삶을 뒤돌아본다는 것이 그리 쉬운 일은 아닌가 보다.

“이혼을 해주지 않아 미루다가 그간 수없이 많은 서류가 오가면서 드디어 얼마 전에 서류 정리가 끝났어요.” 

이혼으로 그녀의 몸과 마음은 홀가분하고 가벼워진 듯 미래에 대한 희망에 들떠 있었다. 그녀의 등에 업혀 바래고 피곤해져 갈색조로 변해가는 백팩이 마치 생명체를 띄며 이제는 그만 그녀의 등에서 내려서 쉬고 싶다고 진지하고 묵직한 표정으로 쳐다보는 듯했다.

I thought you were single.

It’s said that a person’s mind resembles the bag they carry daily and the inside of the living space.

A long time ago, on a sunny day near the end of winter, I received her call. I was delighted. I wondered if she would show up again carrying that heavy orange backpack, worried her roommate might rifle through her important documents. We met at Washington Square Park in Downtown Manhattan. I was sitting on a bench warmed by the spring sunlight, leaning back. From afar, I recognized her instantly—hunched over, carrying her now faded orange backpack, which had turned a brownish color with age. She approached, and when she reached the bench, she placed her bag against it for security. Sitting awkwardly on the edge of the seat, she glanced at me with an embarrassed look.

"Your backpack seems even bigger than the last time we met."

"It’s not any heavier, but now it holds my divorce papers."

"You were married? I thought you were single."

"I was desperate to survive, so I got married at a young age to an American soldier stationed in Korea and moved to Georgia. I thought America was glamorous and wonderful, but I didn’t know I’d end up in such a rural place, living among so many extended family members. 

Whenever my husband drank, he would beat me up, calling me a slut who only cares about my appearance. I thought I would die if I stayed there, so I ran away to New York. Don’t you think I have a somewhat pretty face?"

Her face had a few acne scars, but her fair skin, deep double-lidded eyes, moderately prominent nose, and thin lips below a well-defined philtrum gave her an attractive look. Her hair was unstyled and tied back roughly, with a coarse texture. If I had looked away from the large bag she carried and observed her closely, I would have noticed how pretty she was. Her figure, too, with long arms and legs and balanced proportions, would have stood out if she wore fitting clothes and stood upright without that heavy orange backpack weighing her down. Her husky voice shifted inconsistently, rising cheerfully before falling into hollow, low tones. Her moods were as varied as her voice. She would pause mid-conversation, watch passersby intently, and curl up uneasily, glancing around as if frightened. When our eyes met, she would straighten her posture, flash a faintly bitter smile as if she had just remembered something, and continue talking. Reflecting on her past life was clearly not an easy task.

"My husband kept delaying the divorce, and countless documents went back and forth, but finally, everything was settled recently."

The divorce seemed to have lightened her body and mind, filling her with hope for the future. The faded, tired-looking backpack on her back seemed almost alive, as if silently pleading to be set down, tired of carrying the weight of her burdens.

흐르지 않는 강

리버사이드 공원에서 콜롬비아 대학 쪽으로 올라갔다가 한 바퀴 돌고 내려와 강가에 앉아 있다. 이상하다. 강에게 중요한 것은 흐르는 일인데 강물이 호수처럼 제자리에 있다. 어느 쪽을 선택해야 할지 망설이는 듯, 한 자리에서 출렁인다. 최선의 선택은 흐르지 않고 조용히 있는 것이라고 결정한 것일까? 

강물이 어느 쪽으로 흐를까? 망설이듯 인생도 선택의 연속이다. 최선을 선택하고도 만족하지 못하고 후회할 수 있다. 잘못된 결정일지라도 좋은 결과로 만들어야 하는 것이 우리가 살면서 하는 일이다. 잘못 선택했다는 두려움을 버리고 최선을 다해야한다. 과거의 선택들이 지금의 내 삶을 만들기 때문이다.

선택하지 않으면 양심에 어긋나는 일일 경우 결정하기는 쉽지 않다. 사소한 것들에 대한 선별도 마찬가지다. 나와 상관없다고 외면하는 현실에 부딪칠 때도 이쪽저쪽 갈림길에서 망설인다. 그른 일에 모른 척해야 하는 일들이 있게 마련이다. 용기를 내야 할지 나의 안위를 위해 침묵해야 할지 고민한다. 그럴 때 나는 결정을 잠시 옆으로 밀어 놓고 시간에 맡긴다. 그렇다고 내가 시간이 해결해 주겠지 믿고 아무 일도 하지 않는 것은 아니다. 나는 조용히 어느 쪽으로도 흐르지 않고 제자리에 머물러 출렁이는 강처럼 산책하며 기다린다. 산책은 건강을 줄 뿐만 아니라 시간과 투합해 가장 그럴듯한 방향으로 유도하고 격려하며 도와주는 데 한몫한다. 

강에게 중요한 것이 흐르는 일이듯 나에게 중요한 것은 주어진 삶에서 올바른 방향을 찾기 위해 서두르지 않고 사색하며 기다리는 것이다. 잘못된 결정을 했을지라도 좋은 결과를 만들려고 고군분투하면서. 나무가 추운 겨울을 견디고 봄을 맞이하는 포근한 날에 새싹을 내밀 듯

The Still River

At Riverside Park, I walk up toward Columbia University, circle back, and sit by the river. Something feels strange. For a river, the most important thing is to flow, yet the water remains still, like a lake. It ripples in place, as though hesitating about which direction to choose. Has it decided that the best course of action is not to flow, but to remain quietly still?

Which way will the river flow? Like the river's hesitation, life, too, is a series of choices. Even after making what seems to be the best choice, dissatisfaction or regret may follow. Yet, part of living is to turn even a wrong decision into something positive. Letting go of the fear of having chosen poorly and doing our best is essential, because the choices of the past shape the life we live today.

When faced with decisions that challenge one’s conscience, making a choice is not always easy. The same applies to even trivial matters. Sometimes, when confronted with realities we’d rather ignore, we hesitate at crossroads. At times, we must choose between speaking out courageously and remaining silent for our own safety. In those moments, I often set the decision aside, leaving it to time. That doesn’t mean I believe time alone will resolve everything. Instead, I quietly wait and reflect, like a river rippling in place without flowing in either direction, taking walks to bide my time. Walking not only promotes health but also works hand in hand with time to guide, encourage, and support me toward the most reasonable direction.

Just as flowing is crucial for the river, searching for the right path in the life given to me is what truly matters. Without rushing, I contemplate and wait, striving to create good outcomes even from poor decisions. Like trees enduring the cold winter and greeting spring by tenderly sprouting new buds on a warm day.

시절 인연

‘죽을 만큼 사랑했던 사람과 

모른 척 지나가게 되는 날이 오고 

한때는 비밀을 공유하던 가까운 친구가 

전화 한 통 하지 않을 만큼 멀어지는 날이 오고 

또 한때는 죽이고 싶을 만큼 미웠던 사람과 

웃으면서 볼 수 있듯이 

시간이 지나면 이것 또한 아무것도 아니다.’ 

엘리자베스 퀴블러 로스의 상실 수업 중의 한 구절이다.

며칠 전 거의 2년 동안 만나지 못한 친구가 리버사이드 공원을 산책하자고 전화했다. 친구가 가까운데 살다가 다운타운으로 이사하기 전 우리는 자주 만나 함께 걸었다. 이사 후 만남이 뜸해지고 그녀의 손주가 태어나면서 점점 통화도 줄었다. 내가 연락했지만, 전화 응답기가 꽉 찼다는 신호만 나와서 녹음도 남기지 못하고 만남이 시들해졌다. 우리는 리버사이드 공원을 걷다가 언제 또 만날지 모를 기약 없는 헤어짐이 아쉬워 카페에 들어가 앉았다

“양로원에 계신 시어머니가 수시로 전화하셔서 전화 응답기가 항상 꽉 차 있어. 시어머니 돌보느라 손주 들여다보느라 바빴어.” 

나야 양부모 다 돌아가시고 손주도 없다. 남편도 작업에 매진하느라 휴일도 없이 스튜디오에 간다. 그저 내 한 몸 돌보느라 힘들다며 부담스러운 만남도 피한다.  

나이 어릴 때는 친구들과 어울리느라, 결혼해서는 아이들과 남편 뒷바라지하느라, 나이 들어서는 손주들과 부모 돌보느라 바빠 연락이 소원해지다 끊긴다. ‘가는 사람 잡지 말고 오는 사람 막지 말라.’던 누군가의 말을 실천하는 중이다. 오면 반갑고 가도 굳이 섭섭하지 않다. 오랜 인연을 유지하려고 애쓰지도 않는다. 시절 인연에 만족하며 산다.

산책로 강가에 앉기 편한 바위 두 개가 있다. 그 바위 가까이 나무 두 그루가 그늘을 만들어 준다. 나무껍질이 벗겨져 울퉁불퉁 거칠어 보인다. 주름으로 갈라진 거친 내 얼굴과 닮았다. 바위에 앉아 흐르는 강물을 들여다봤다. 오랜 세월 사람들의 쉼터로 바위는 내 몸을 편하게 감싸안듯 받쳐준다. 일 년에 네 번 옷을 갈아입고 변함없이 나를 기다리며 반기는 자연은 나의 첫사랑이자 마지막 사랑이다.

Seasonal Connections

'There will come a day when you pass by someone you once loved with all your heart as if they were a stranger. A day when a close friend, with whom you once shared secrets, drifts so far apart that they don’t even make a single phone call. And a day when someone you once hated so much you wanted to destroy them becomes someone you can smile at when you meet. Over time, even this will mean nothing.’

– A passage from On Grief and Grieving by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross.

A few days ago, a friend I hadn’t seen in almost two years called to invite me for a walk in Riverside Park. We used to meet often and walk together when she lived nearby. But after she moved downtown, our meetings became infrequent. Then, after her grandchild was born, our phone calls gradually dwindled. I tried reaching out, but her voicemail was always full, so I couldn’t even leave a message. Eventually, our connection faded.

As we walked through Riverside Park, we felt the weight of an uncertain farewell, not knowing when we might meet again. So, we stopped at a café.

“My mother-in-law, who’s in a nursing home, calls constantly, so my voicemail is always full. I’ve been so busy taking care of her and looking after my grandchild,” she explained.

As for me, my parents and parents-in-law have both passed away, I have no grandchildren, and my husband spends all his time in the studio, even on weekends. I only focus on taking care of myself and avoid burdensome meetups.

When we’re young, we’re busy socializing with friends. When we’re married, we’re busy raising kids and supporting our spouse. As we age, we care for grandchildren and aging parents. Relationships grow distant and fade away. I’ve been practicing the saying,

"Let go of those who leave, welcome those who enter my life."

I no longer strive to maintain long-term connections. I live content with the relationships of each season.

Along the riverside, there are two rocks perfect for sitting. Nearby, two trees cast shade over them. The bark of the trees, peeling and rough, resembles the wrinkles and roughness of my own face. Sitting on the rock, I looked into the flowing river. For years, these rocks have been a resting place for many and cradle me gently as if to embrace me. The unchanging nature that welcomes me through its seasonal transformations is my first love and my last love.