This is something that I’ve wanted to write for about several years, but something kept me from sharing it. It is 4:23AM here and I finally have the desire to write and publish this. This will not be the most grammatically correct written piece as I’m writing this about 5 drinks in after one of my best friends is visiting. It was a good night.
I don’t have a lot of friends. Some people would laugh at that. They would judge me for that. But you know what? I love my friends. This is a story of a kid who grew up without a mother.
It’s another Mother’s Day, which I only remembered because of all the ads thrown at me. I joked about it in my head. There was an advertisement for an unforgettable getaway in Hawaii for a mother and their kids. But you know the first thought that came in my head? “Would they check and verify that my mom was still alive?” My sister, one of the best people I know, is 2 years older than I am. I’m 29 years old and honestly I dread turning 30 because I feel like I haven’t accomplished as much as I should have. My mom died of brain cancer when I was 4 years old. The first tattoo I’ve ever gotten was in honor of her and honestly I love it because it’s like a code between me and her. The numbers don’t really make sense to anyone else but us. I miss my mom a lot. But I’ve also accepted that she died and my sister and I had no choice but to grow up quickly. I see mothers with their children and while I smile on the outside, I deeply hurt inside. I will never know what it’s like to complain about my day to my mom. I can’t call her for the lightest of complaints. It wasn’t fair. Why did God put her in our lives only to be taken at such a young age? Growing up in Korea, you were constantly surrounded by gossip. Who was the smartest? Who would go to the best Ivy League school? My sister is my biggest hero and role model. Something that still sticks with me is this: Imagine Korean mothers gossiping about whose kid is the best. Now imagine one of them mentioning how “Kelly and Charles grew up so well even without a mother”. Your gut reaction may be to feel offended, but please know how proud that makes me feel. My sister and I, kids who grew up without a mother, turning out into good kids? I’m sure Kelly carried the weight of it, but it still makes me immensely proud and something I feel like I can brag about because we fucking overcame such adversity and trauma as kids. Did it require hundreds of hours of counseling sessions? Yes, but it still counts.
She, along with our 아빠, had to fulfill the role of both father and mother. I can only quantify how hard it was and affected us through the numerous and arduous counseling sessions we had to endure. Growing up was not easy. I got beat a lot. I will always cherish how painful yet healing our joint therapy session was. I was a troublesome kid. I wasn’t good at studying, in fact, I hated it. I was resentful that the teachers were able to get free tuition for their kids at the very school our dad gaslit about so often because of how expensive the tuition was. This isn’t to say I dislike my dad. I didn’t have many role models to look up to. My role models were Jamie Oliver, Gordon Ramsay, and David Chang when I was fully invested in attending culinary school. By the way, the worst ramen I’ve ever had in my life.
I’m home now and I’m not sure how to continue this other than the accomplishment of being able to live by myself in a solid studio apartment in Park Slope.
I want to thank some folks. My best friends, who I met through Reddit and one fateful meetup that I was hesitant about going to while living in Sunnyside with foreign Korean kids who I couldn’t relate to at all and broke my cologne bottle, to Eric and Elsie Chung for letting me live with you in Korea, to Tom 형 and Julie 누나, to Mrs. and Mr. Boush, to Mr Wilson, to all the people that believed in my sister and I, to Matthew and Michelle Kang, along with my dear Uncle Peter and Aunt Christina, who I have the upmost honor of having dinner with before he passed due to Covid-19. To Michael Keller, who served as a safe foundation for myself and Kelly while we were new to this scary yet lonely city, to Fernando for allowing me such a fun childhood.
And to my father, who I had to have countless therapy sessions over… I will never know how hard it was for you. As hard as our upbringing was, I hope you know we realize we tried to understand how hard it was. We were forever anxious and conscious about money since we were kids. I do not take it for granted.
To Mom, I miss you a lot, and fuck cancer. I wish I could talk to you or share mundane moments with you. I hope you are proud of myself and Kelly for enduring and showing tenacity. I wish I could get you flowers, or call you, or say I love you.
보고싶어요. 사랑해요. 취윤정 5999.
