Marital fidelity

“I don’t think my husband even knows how to type on a keyboard. He can’t use email. The only thing he knows how to do is open the news websites I bookmarked for him,” I said.

Another woman replied, 

“Well, at least my husband barely knows how to check his email. But honestly, I worry—what would he do if I die first?”

Then I added, “Why are you worrying? Most men live even better after their wives pass away. They meet younger women and feel like newlyweds again!”

It’s true—when a man loses his first wife, he often ends up with a young and pretty new partner, acting like she’s the love of his life. But in America, many older men are very attached to their money. They’re afraid of dating again. That’s probably why you often see elderly men at diners, eating alone with shaky hands.

When my mother passed away, a woman around my older sister’s age suddenly showed up—almost as if she’d been waiting in a dark alley for the moment. She appeared with a bright smile. I welcomed her, thinking, "It’s better for my father to be happy with someone than to be lonely."

My father gave her everything—his time, love, and even helped pay for her children’s education, weddings, and even remarriages. I couldn’t help but support him like someone softly playing a drum next to a drummer—trying to make him feel encouraged. To be fair, my father also did a lot for us. He helped me emotionally and financially so I could live well. But after Mom passed away, we—the daughters—became less important.

That experience taught me something: 

“While I’m alive, I should give my best to my husband and children. After I’m gone, life will continue just fine without me. And the people I leave behind have the right to be happy.”

But—half of the money I saved while alive is mine. Whatever my husband does with his half, even if he spends it on a young woman, that’s his choice. But my half—I want it used where I choose.

Still, let’s be honest. When men fall for younger women, they lose control. And those women often want more and more money. That’s not just today’s world—it’s always been that way. Like people say, after suffering for 5,000 years, now that they’ve tasted money, everyone’s going crazy about it!

So, I made a living trust. If one of us passes away, the other will only receive half the estate—not all of it. But honestly, that’s just a paper decision after death. Meanwhile, here I am, the aging wife, doing all the computer work to set this up. I wonder—Is my husband even truly happy?

Still, I want to believe that our happy memories as a couple will stay with us—and that loyalty will last. Just like my father, who stayed loyal to my mother and never remarried.

미드나이트 인 킹스턴 (Midnight in Kingston)

나는 항상 놀 기회가 있으면 마지막 파장까지 죽치고 남는다. 마음 맞는 친구들과 즐겼던 장면, 장소, 이야기 등을 기억했다가 이따금 떠올리며 히죽히죽 웃는다.  

내가 좋아하는 모임에서 선배님이 1박 2일 파자마 파티를 열었다. 모두 13명 중 8명이 밤샘했다. 선배님은 상다리가 휘어지도록 음식을 차렸다. 우리들은 와인 한 병만 들고 오라시더니. 은퇴한 의사인 선배님 남편은 우리가 불편하지 않게 챙겨주셨다. 몰려간 우리는 그저 황공할 따름이었다.

예전에도 지인 몇 명과 함께 선배님 집 근처 영화관에 간 적이 있다. 우디 앨런 작 ‘미드나이트 인 파리(Midnight in Paris)’였다. 잡을 수 없는 지나간 시간에 애착을 그린 영화로 비가 추적추적 오는 파리의 풍경으로 시작한다. 잘 풀리지 않는 미국 작가가 파리에 여행 와서 어느 날 밤 산책하던 중 시대를 뛰어넘는 경험을 하는 내용이다.  

영화를 보고 난 후, 랍스터 식당으로 안내한 선배님 남편, 박사님 의사분이 랍스터 껍질을 손수 벗겨 각자 접시에 계속 놓아 줬던 친절이 잊히지 않는다. ‘역시 능력 있는 남편이 아내에게도 잘하는 것을 보며 자상한 남편을 둔 선배님이 몹시 부러웠다.

준비한 음식은 내 생전에 먹어본 적이 없는 프랑스 음식 같기도 하고 아니 이탈리아식인가? 뭘 알아야지 설명하겠는데 나의 상차림과는 달랐다. 나는 그동안 어찌 그렇게 후줄근하게 살다가 이런 호사스러운 장소에 초대받았을까? 할 정도로 나 자신의 빈약한 삶을 뒤돌아보게 했다.

자정이 되자, 마음속에 감춰둔 각자 이야기가 고개를 내밀었다. 누구 옆에 누가 앉아 이야기하다 다른 친구에게 넘겨져 또 다른 속사정으로 이어지고 귀 기울이고. 두 팀으로 나뉘어 이야기하다 한 팀이 돼서 흥분하고. 초가을 밤이 후딱 지났다.

다음 날 아침 파자마를 평상복으로 갈아입고 각자 집으로 향했다. 우리들의 수다는 차 안에서 또 ‘사이런트 산행’이라는 주제로 이어졌다. 결국엔 산행하기 전에 ‘침묵 드라이브’로 연습해 보자는 제안에 우리들은 입을 다물었다. 한참의 침묵 속에서 남은 앞으로의 삶을 어떻게 살아야 할까를 생각하다 보니 포트리에 당도했다.

“마누라 왜 소리 지르고 난리야? 아주 신이 났군. 꿈속에서 또 파티야?” 

남편이 흔들어 깨웠다. 영화에서처럼 나는 뉴욕에서 잘 풀리지 않는 작가로 어느 모임에 초대받는 꿈이었다. 내가 좋아하는 모임의 친구들은 성공해 귀부인들이 되어 우아한 차림으로 등장하는.

이미 잡을 수 없는 지나간 시간이 되어버린 우리들의 파자마 파티가 선물 꾸러미를 펴 보듯 이따금 되살아나리라.

Midnight in Kingston

I always end up with the last wave when I get a chance to have a party. Even if everyone dies, it seems that I have many opportunities to live forever, but it is not true. I recall the scenes, places, and stories I enjoyed with my friends, and then I sometimes think of them and laugh.

In my favorite meeting, my seniors held a pajama party for one night and two days. Eight out of 13 people stay an all-night. The senior prepared a lot of food. She just asked us to bring a bottle of wine. Her husband, who is a retired doctor, took care of us comfortably. We were just overwhelmed with awe.

In the past, I went a movie theater near the senior 's house with some of my acquaintances. It was Woody Allen's ‘Midnight in Paris.’ The movie begins with the scenery of rainy Paris, and the story about an American writer who has a difficult time traveling to Paris and having a walk one night going beyond the times.

After seeing the movie, I can’t forget the kindness the doctor who guided to the lobster restaurant stripped off the lobster shell and kept putting it on each person’s dish. I was very envious of senior when I saw that a competent husband was doing better to his wife.

Is the prepared food like French food that I have never eaten before, or is it Italian? It was different from my table setting. How have I been invited to such an extravagant place? I made myself look back at my shabby life.

At midnight, each hidden story kept in their mind came out. We turned around and told each other inside stories. We chatted to in one team and became to be in two teams. We were excited to talk and the early fall night has passed quickly.

The next morning we changed the pajamas to casual wear and headed home. Our conversation followed the theme of 'Silent hiking' in the car. In the end, I asked for a suggestion to practice with 'silent drive' before the silent hiking. While I thought about how I should live my life in the future in silence, I arrived at Fort Lee, NJ.

"Wife, why are you screaming? Very excited. Is it another party in your dreams?" My husband shook and woke me up. As in the movie, I was a dream to be invited to a party as an artist who has a difficult time in New York. The friends of my favorite group are success and they are dressed like ladies and appear in elegant clothes.

Our pajama party will occasionally revive to our life like opening a package of gift.

고생하면 철든다

대부분 부모가 그렇겠지만 나도 젊은 날 혈기와 에너지로 뭉칫돈을 아낌없이 자식을 위해 쏟아부었다. 그런데 아이는 뜨거운 불판 앞에서 야키소바를 만드느라 심각하다. 조금만 등한시하면 맛이 엉뚱한 방향으로 치달리니 그럴 수밖에. 식당 부엌에서 힘들게 일하는 아들을 보려고 그리도 오랜 세월 공들였단 말인가?

아이는 일본 직장을 그만두고 뉴욕으로 돌아와 내가 매일 산책가는 공원 끝에 있는 대학에 안전한 직장을 잡았다. 날씨 좋은 날이면 리뷰 좋은 식당에서 점심도 함께 먹고 팔짱 끼고 데이트도 할 수 있어 좋았다.

“엄마, 지금 하는 일이 지루해서 다른 일로 바꾸려고요.” 

조심스럽게 내 눈치를 살피며 아이가 말했다. 

“그만두고 뭘 하려고?” 

“일본식당을 파트너와 하려고요.” 

“식당, 쉬운 것 아니다. 네 요리사인 친할아버지가 여러 개 하다가 다 망했잖아.”

아이가 말이 없다. 워낙에 신중한 아이라 조용하면 난 겁을 먹는다. 

“그래, 어쩌겠니. 네가 하고 싶은 일을 해야지. 망해도 젊었을 때 망하고. 배우는 것도 많겠지. 네 마음대로 해라.”

걱정과 스트레스 없이 잘 지내고 있는 내 인생에 ‘식당이 망하면 어쩌지?’ 자다가도 문득 눈을 떴다. ‘뭐 망해도 나이가 어리니까 또 직장을 구할 수 있겠지.’ 생각하다 잠들곤 했다.

아이는 일본인 파트너와 6개월 동안 일본 요리를 부지런히 연습하고 우리 부부 결혼기념일인 작년 7월 21일, 이스트빌리지에 일식 패스트푸드 식당을 열었다. 내 결혼식 날보다 더 더운 날이었다. 아이가 만들어준 야키소바 맛이 깔깔해 넘어가지 않았다. 젓가락만 들고 불판 앞에서 땀 뻘뻘 흘리며 일하는 아이를 넋이 나가 쳐다보는 내 눈가에 눈물이 주르륵 흘렀다.

아이는 쉬는 날도 없이 주 7일 하루에 15시간 일했다. 식당은 잘됐다. 

“괜찮아? 힘들지 않아?” 

“사람도 많이 만나고 재미있어요.”

라는 말에 연락도 하지 않고 잊으려 애썼다. 오랜만에 식당으로 찾아갔다. 아이의 볼이 푹 페이고 무척이나 수척했다. 

“너 왜 이렇게 말랐니?” 

“바빠서 밥 먹을 시간이 없어요."

아이가 병이라도 나면 어쩌지? 하는 또 다른 걱정이 생겼다.

아이는 식당을 파트너에게 넘기고 8개월 만에 고만뒀다. 

“엄마 식당 아무나 하는 게 아닌가 봐요. 너무 힘들었어요.” 

혼이 난 표정이다. 그동안 엄마가 걱정할까 봐 말 못 한 사연을 열거하는 아이는 예전의 어린 모습이 아니었다.

아이는 곧바로 일주일에 5일 8시간 일하는 직장을 잡았다. 페리를 타고 느긋하게 월스트리트로 출근한다. 아이는 고생해서 철들었고 내 걱정은 싹 사라졌다. ‘너 미국 가서 고생하더니 철들었구나.’ 하던 친정아버지가 생각났다.

If suffer, become mature

Like most parents, I poured my time, money, and energy into my child.

But now, I see my son standing seriously in front of a hot grill, cooking yakisoba. He has to focus completely—one small mistake can ruin the flavor. Did I spend all those years raising him just to watch him work so hard in a restaurant kitchen?

After quitting his job in Japan, my son returned to New York and got a stable job at a university—right near the park where I go for daily walks. On nice days, we would eat lunch at well-reviewed restaurants and take walks together, arm in arm. I loved those times. Then one day, he said carefully, watching my reaction:

“Mom, my current job feels boring. I want to try something else.”

“What do you want to do if you quit?”

“I’m thinking of opening a Japanese restaurant with a partner.”

“Running a restaurant isn’t easy. Don’t you remember your grandfather? He was a chef and opened several restaurants—but they all failed.”

He stayed quiet. He’s always been cautious, and when he goes silent, it worries me. So I said,

“Well… if that’s what you really want to do, then do it. If you fail, better to fail while you’re young. You’ll learn a lot either way. Follow your heart.”

My life had been calm, free of worry or stress—but now I found myself waking up at night thinking, “What if the restaurant fails?” Then I’d tell myself, “He’s still young. If it doesn’t work out, he can find another job,” and fall back asleep.

He trained with his Japanese partner for six months, working hard to learn Japanese cooking. On July 21 last year—my wedding anniversary—they opened a Japanese fast food restaurant in the East Village. It was even hotter that day than on my wedding day. My son made me yakisoba, I could barely swallow it. I just stared at him, sweating at the grill, holding his chopsticks with tired hands—and tears rolled down my cheeks.

He worked 15 hours a day, 7 days a week, with no days off The restaurant was doing well.

“Are you okay? Isn’t it too hard?” I asked.

“I meet lots of people, and it’s fun,” 

he said. After that, I tried not to call. I told myself to leave him alone.

But I visited the restaurant after some time. His cheeks were sunken, and he looked so thin.

“Why are you so skinny?”

“I don’t have time to eat,” he said. Now I had a new worry—what if he gets sick?

Eight months later, he gave the restaurant to his partner and quit.

“Mom, running a restaurant isn’t for everyone. It was way too hard.”

He looked exhausted and defeated. He started telling me everything he had gone through—but hadn’t told me before because he didn’t want me to worry. He no longer seemed like a boy.

He soon found a new job—working five days a week, 8 hours a day.

Now he takes the ferry peacefully to his office in Wall Street. He matured through the hard times, and my worries disappeared.

I remembered what my father said to me once:

“You went to America, had a hard time, and finally grew up.”

걱정도 아닌 걱정

밤마다 불면증에 시달리는 불쌍한 시어머니, 50여 년을 시할머니 모시고 사느라 고생이 많으셨다.

“신랑 구두 닦지 안씀메?” 

조용한 뒤뜰 야자수 밑에서 커피를 마시고 있는 나에게 다가와 시할머니가 못마땅하다고 힐난하셨다. 차를 타고 외출하려고 부산떨고 있었다. 

“이 봅세, 차 닦지 않고 뭐함메? 서울 간나들은 게을러서리.” 

LA 시댁에 결혼 준비하러 가서 정신없이 바쁜 손자며느리가 될 나에게도 이 정도였으니. 시어머니에게는 오죽하셨을까?

김일성이 죽은 해가 1994년이다. 김일성만 죽으면 통일되는 줄 알았다. 어린 시절부터 입에서 맴돌던 ‘우리의 소원은 통일’이 염원이었기 때문이다. 같은 해 시할머니도 돌아가셨다.

시할머니의 그늘에서 벗어난 시어머니가 편안한 노후를 보낼 것이라는 기대는 빗나갔다. 시어머니는 외출했다가도 해가 까물까물 어슴푸레 지면 돌아가신 시할머니가 집에서 기다리는 듯 집에 가야 한다며 성화시다. 해지기 전까지 집에 돌아오지 않으면 시할머니에게 평생 혼이 났기 때문이다. 저승에서 시집살이시키려고 시할머니가 ‘어마이, 어마이,’하고 부르시는지 끄떡하면 저세상으로 빨리 가겠다고 보채신다.

함경도에서 피난 내려와 서울 남산 아래 해방촌에 사셨다. 남산 꼭대기에 미군 쌕쌕이를 잡는다고 설치한 인민군 대공 포대를 미군 전투기가 고공에서 폭격해댔다. 서울이 점령당한 그해 여름, 온통 주변이 아비규환이었다. 시어머니는 바로 집 앞에서 폭격 맞아 푸득 푸득 튀며 피를 내뿜는 절단된 몸으로 물 달라고 울부짖으며 죽어가던 이웃을 목격하셨다. 물 길으러 문밖으로 나서는 순간, 민간복을 좀 달라고 울며불며 통사정하는 사이 인민군 따발총에 눈앞에서 쓰러져간 패잔병 국군 모습이 평생 기억 속에 각인되었다.

두려움에 옆집으로 위안 삼아 마실가기 위해 집을 나서는 순간 집은 직격탄을 맞았다. 돌아와 가재도구를 수습하는 동안 시할머니가 천정에 감춰두었던 남북한 종이돈은 완전히 부스러기가 되었다. 그것을 대바구니에 담아놓고 몇 장은 풀에 붙여 쓰다 지쳐서 쓸어 담아 쓰레기통에다 버렸단다. 그런 처절한 기억들이 빛바랜 흑백 사진처럼 머리 하얀 시어머니의 뇌리를 맴돌고 있는 것일까?

시할머니 장례식에서 가장 서럽게 흐느끼며 우시던 시어머니 뒷모습을 보면서 기분이 묘했다. 시어머니는 자신의 희로애락 대부분이 시할머니의 잔소리를 통해서 느껴서였기 때문일까? 그런데 그 대상이 사라졌기 때문에?

사람도 만나지 않고 거의 혼족(혼자서 즐기는 인간)으로 지내는 나의 걱정도 아닌 걱정거리는 과연 무엇일까? 창밖을 멍청히 내다본다.

What is my worry?

My poor mother-in-law, who suffers from insomnia every night, has had a hard time living with my grandmother-in-law for 50 years.

"Don’t shine your husband shoes?" came up to me who drinking coffee under a quiet backyard palm tree. The grandmother-in-law also said, when I was trembling to go out in the car. "Come on, do not wipe the car?”

I went to my in-law house in L.A. to prepare for the wedding. The Grandmother-in-law kept nagging a busy grandchild-in-law.  So how much did she scold her daughter-in-law?

The year of Il Sung Kim’s death was 1994. I knew that if Il Sung Kim dies, it would be unified. It is because the desire of "unification" which was circulating in the mouth since childhood. The same year my grandmother died.

The expectation that my mother-in-law would spend comfortable old age away from the shadows of the grandmother-in-law went wrong. The mother-in-law goes out and says that she should go home as if the grandmother-in-law is waiting at home at dusk. If she didn’t return home until sunset, she punished for her life. I wonder if the grandmother-in-law is calling her, she wants to go to the afterlife as soon as possible.  

She escaped from Hamkyung-do, North Korea and lived in Habangchone under Namsan in Seoul. US Army fighter jets bombed the People's Army Base, which was installed at the top of Mt. Namsan to catch US Army fighter jets. When People’s Army occupied Seoul, the surrounding area was all about hell. The mother-in-law was bombarded right in front of the house and witnessed her neighbor dying from the blood of a broken body, crying for water. The moment she stepped out of the door to draw water, the figure of the army soldier who fell down in front of the people's army guns while being crying for the civilian clothes was stamped on her memory for life.

As soon as she left home to go to next door to comfort from fear, the house was hit by a direct. While returning home, the paper money that the grandmother-in-law kept in the ceiling was completely crumbled. She put it in the basket and attached a few pieces, and got tired and threw it away. Are these pitiful memories circling the minds of the mother-in-law like a faded black-and-white photograph?

I felt strange to see the mother-in-law sobbing at the funeral of the grandmother-in-law. Is it because most of the mother-in-law's feelings were through the grandmother-in-law's nagging? And it is because the object has disappeared?

What is my worry about staying alone almost without meeting people? I stare vacantly out of the window.