puddles on the playground
when i was little, at bedtime, my mom would come into my room and lay down with me. pulling my little body closer to hers. no songs, no stories... just that hug... and it was always enough... cause it didn't take long for me to sleep thereafter. she would do this no matter what the circumstances... and as i got older... there were definitely circumstances. we began to argue over everything. but in spite of all these quarrels... she was always there when i went to sleep... and had been, from as far back as i could remember.
on one occasion, after what seemed like an entire day of bickering, i asked her why she did this... why she always made a point to come into my room... even when i didn't want her to... she looked up at the ceiling for a moment... and then turned to me.
"yes, we don't always have good days... you and me. but i'm still gonna be here... i am never so mad at you that i can stop loving you... that's impossible. the last thing you are thinking about before you sleep, should always be, that i love you."
she was a woman of few words. i remember being so surprised she had actually said all that... in fact, it caught me so off guard, that i managed to forget why i was even angry with her. i think i was too young and selfish to fully appreciate her words that night... but i definitely heard them... and i always remembered them when we had those bad days... and so many more followed.
when i was 19, i went to live with my aunt in boston. she said my mom was a lot their mom... real strict, and not very flexible or understanding about anything that didn't include studying. my mom stopped speaking to me when i told her i wanted to go live with my aunt. but she didn't forbid me from going. she knew it would be a great opportunity for me to get an education over there... she had told me many times that she had always wished she could have gone when she was my age. i can't say i felt the same. to be honest, i didn't really care about learning english or going to the US... i didnt' really want to leave korea, or all my friends at school... but as i got older, our relationship seemed to worsen... so i left.
i didn't like boston at first... but after a few months, i got used to it. my aunt was really helpful... so were her children, my cousins. they were both older than me and very protective. they had many friends and were involved in a lot of activities... this of course kept me busy. even so, i thought about my mom everyday... wondering what she was doing, hoping she was okay. we would talk on the phone from time to time... but as i mentioned earlier, she was a woman of very few words. in spite of this, i began to look forward to her calls... to hearing the sound of her voice. i remember telling my aunt that i even missed fighting with her. my aunt laughed and said this was normal... that she had felt the same for her mother, when she had left korea for the first time.
about 8 or 9 months later, my mom came to visit. she didn't mention it to me or my aunt. she just showed up one day. it was a saturday... i remember hearing my aunt and her talking in the living room... i thought i was dreaming for a few minutes. i sat up and was about to make my way towards to living room when i heard the hardwood creak... someone was coming down the hall towards my room. i don't know why i did it, but i quickly kicked my slippers off and slid back under the covers. my mom walked in seconds later. she set a few bags down quietly, thinking i was still sleeping... bags that i later found out contained clothes, the korean snacks i liked, and a bunch letters and pictures from friends and family.
i could see her in the mirror that was next to my bed. she was just standing there... looking at me. i wanted to sit up and say something... but this look on her face prevented me from moving.
after a few minutes of staring at me, she finally sat down on the bed. when she did this, i was unable to see her in the reflection. i could hear her though... as she wiped her eyes and face and nose. hearing her cry made me cry... being the woman she was, of very few words, she simply laid down next to me. she put her arm around me and pulled me towards her... like she did when i was little... and we just laid there... not really saying anything... aside from the crying and hugging, and an occasional laugh.
it felt good... and as i got older, i came to realize, that in the face of all that bickering and time spent away from each other... that this,
this was our song and story.
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Uploaded on Nov 28, 2009
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