We Met, We Ate, We Parted
I never ended up finishing this post. This was the resolution to the month-long search for my aunts and although I'd told the story several times since, I never wrote everything down. There are a few reasons for this. First, it was all very overwhelming and I don't think words could ever describe the emotions I was going through during that meeting.
It was an incredible feeling for the phone number to go through and to hear my aunt's voice as we had our first conversation. She already knew that my father had passed away but rather than feeling sad, she was regretful and lamented the hard life my dad had lived after moving to America. We arranged to meet a few hours later that day and as I rode the bus to the city she lived in, I kept on playing our brief phone conversation over and over in my head. I'll admit, I was a little disappointed that she wasn't more affected by my dad's death but soon realized that it was to be expected. As thick as blood is, how attached can you feel to a person you haven't spoken to in more than twenty years? I wasn't sure how our conversation would go or what I would say to her but I was happy that I would get to see her on my last day in Korea. Once I arrived at the meeting place I began to worry because it was a crowded food court and I didn't know what she looked like. But within ten seconds of arriving my eyes locked with an older woman and I immediately recognized her. It was such a strange feeling. How can you recognize someone you've never even seen before?
Genetics, I suppose. She resembled my other aunt in America just enough so that I knew we were related but not enough for me to actually confuse her with my aunt in America. During our few hours together I listened as she told me about everything from how my dad was like when he was younger to her life now. I then updated her on all our relatives in America. It was bittersweet because even as she told me about how she was struggling so much financially, she insisted on buying lunch and as we parted, stuffed an envelope full of cash into my purse. I tried to return it several times but she insisted, saying that she was sorry she couldn't give me more. I teared up on my way home, cursing my ineptitude and wishing that I had the power to right all the wrongs in this world.
Writing this all out makes me realize another reason I was loathe to start this post - it's sad and it's frustrating. As I write all this out I remember what I was feeling at the time and it takes me to a dark place. Despite the happiness of being able to see her, our meeting was shrouded with some dark revelations regarding my dad's family. So much pain and tragedy that it could fill five Korean dramas and still have some material left over. I'm glad that I know more about my family but I also think that some things are left better in the past. I don't have kids yet so I don't know what I would do in my parents' place but I don't blame them for never telling me some things about my dad's family in Korea. A lot of it was just bad luck and not necessarily their fault: war, consequential poverty, society's close-mindedness regarding mental illness, the list goes on.
And finally, I think I was afraid that once I posted this last post, I wouldn't have anything more to write about regarding my dad. Which sounds dumb but once someone passes on, I feel like there's a balance to uphold. On one hand you don't want them to feel neglected, that they didn't matter or leave a significant impact on your life, but on the other hand, you can't hold on to a mere memory forever.
Now that some time has passed I do think about my dad less than before. It still pains my heart to think that he won't be there in the future and sometimes I do play scenes in my head regarding what I know he would say in a certain situation but all in all, I've been able to move on and be happy. Which of course is what he would want for me despite how bitter he may be now, petulantly thinking that I'm not paying him enough homage.
As for the future of this blog, who knows. My sister started a nice library of memories (http://pastramiforhoward.wordpress.com/) but I haven't really posted anything. For the longest time I just didn't have very many good memories because the recent past was still too vivid in my head. Whatever good memories I had were too painful to relive so it was easier to block it all out as a whole. I think I may come back here from time to time to write about dad related things but for the most part I think I will go back to my regular blog (http://jokidoki.wordpress.com/) for everything else.
Thank you to everyone who supported me and my family during this time. I feel so much closer to people who I know have been following this blog because I didn't have to explain myself during our interactions. I could just be me and know that you knew what was going on. Hopefully this blog will help someone in the future coping with a terminal illness in the family but please feel free to reach out to me in person if you want to talk. It's hard to encompass the entire experience in a series of blog posts and much was left unsaid so chances are, I'll understand what you are going through.
Love,
Joanna
Last Chance
Tomorrow is my last day in Korea. Tomorrow is my last chance to find my aunts. Thankfully, two morsels of information arrived today. First, I got a phone number from my uncle in America. My expectations are low because the last two phone numbers were either disconnected or belonged to a stranger, but it's a phone number nonetheless. Second, I have an address of someone who is most likely my aunt. The birth month was different than what my other aunt told me but there was only one person born in that year out of all the people with that same name in that city. This information was acquired through an acquaintance calling out a favor on a police officer they knew. When I tried the police office before, they said that it wasn't possible. I guess knowing someone changes everything.
Anyway, tomorrow I plan to follow up on these leads. Wish me luck.
Aunties, Where Are You?
Do you ever feel like parts of your life would make a really good movie?
I do. In fact, I'm pretty sure there are a slew of movies revolving around finding a long lost relative after the death of a loved one. Currently my life/movie has the drama and the suspense but no resolution. Despite my many inquiries, the only information I have regarding my aunts is a name, city, and year of birth. I still have yet to call city hall and/or the police station because I've been waiting for Monday to roll around. My expectations are low, only because I leave this Friday, but I plan to keep on gathering information while I'm back in the States. I'm sure there are some old pictures that can be useful to a hired detective (if it comes to that) so if I don't find them this time around I'm going to better prepare myself for the next attempt.
Long Lost Relatives
One of my goals during the trip to Korea was to find my two of my father's sisters and meet them. My dad has three brothers and four sisters but I've never met two of his sisters. While the majority of his family immigrated to America, two of his sisters stayed in Korea. Whether it was by choice or not, I don't know. I wasn't able to track them down during the first leg of the Korea trip but when I go back next week, that will be my number one priority.
It's baffling for me to comprehend the concept of losing touch with a sibling. Nowadays it's so easy to keep in touch via Internet. However, Koreans are such proud people and although my dad professed a desire to get back in touch with his two siblings in Korea, he never took the action required to do so. When my dad was doing well he was too busy to be tracking down lost siblings; when he wasn't doing well he didn't want to show that image of himself to his sisters.
There are so many things I don't know about my dad's family but I do know that there's a painful history of family tragedies. Shocking deaths, cancer, mental illness, wealth, poverty, starvation, war...it's a veritable Korean drama. My dad didn't like to talk about many things from his childhood because he didn't want to remember them. When I was little he would always force me to drink water while eating sweet potatoes. If I didn't drink water right at the moment he told me to, he would yank away the sweet potato and replace it with a glass of water. At that age I just thought my dad was just being irrational and overbearing but later I found out that one of his brothers died as a child during the aftermath of the Korean war while choking on a sweet potato. They didn't have enough food so once his brother got a hold of the potato he stuffed it into his mouth and apparently choked to death. I have a feeling there's a lot more to this story but that is the version I heard.
I'm hoping to see my aunts as they don't even know that my dad has passed away. I am prepared for the possibility that they may already be deceased. One of them was placed in an institution as a young woman and for the longest time I didn't even know she existed. I don't know her diagnosis but my mom told me that my aunt was severely affected by the death of her best friend and never quite recovered. I've heard of the other aunt and I think she was in America for a little bit but moved back to Korea soon after. It's possible that she saw me when I was a baby but I obviously have no recollection of that.
I asked my mom and aunt in America for my aunts' contact information or any possible leads but they haven't been able to recover anything yet. I thought for sure that one of my aunts would have their information but when I asked my cousins, both of them said that she has nothing. If my mom doesn't find anything I'm going to try to track down some family friends as well as start looking through the city registry.
I don't expect anything from my aunts when I meet them because I really have no idea what terms they were on with my dad when they last spoke to him. It's possible they won't want to meet me but I do want to deliver the news of his passing to them at the very least. I really hope I can find them but even if I don't, I won't stop until I find out what happened to them and perhaps even be reunited.
I think my dad would like that.
Ashes to Ashes
Whenever I imagined spreading my father's ashes in Korea I always envisioned floating on a small fishing boat, wearing a white hanbok (traditional korean dress) with a black arm band on, gliding across the Han River as I slowly released the ashes into the wind.
This was nothing like that.
My brother and I, along with our significant others, went to find a quiet spot along the river but no matter where we went, there were crowds of people along the river. I've discovered that Koreans are night owls and will exercise or simply hang out until the wee hours of the morning en masse. Because finding a quiet spot along the main river proved to be impossible despite driving several miles between each attempt we decided to go to a small tributary that had a small walking path along the water. Even this location also had several people milling around!
Therefore we did what we thought was prudent at the time: wait until the closest pedestrian was a few minutes away and then start to scatter the ashes into the water. However, we overestimated the brusque pace of an average Korean walker and ended up unceremoniously dumping the ashes in our haste to escape detection. Regretful, yes, but a welcome bout of levity considering the somber task at hand.
Once it was all done and over we walked along the river and waved goodbye to my dad. I silently congratulated him on his return to his home country for the first time in over thirty years and I wished him peace in his afterlife. I hope my dad his happy, wherever he is.
Happy Father’s Day!
Happy Father's Day appa! I didn't plan it this way but today is the day my brother and I go to spread his ashes in Korea. I will update as soon as I get back tonight.
Memories
It's kind of shocking to realize how quickly time passes. Things were so overwhelming for a while that I only let myself think of one day at a time but after having blinders on for so long, it's strange to realize that almost three weeks have passed.
Recently a good portion of my time has been devoted to scanning and archiving old family photos. It's somewhat tedious because of the manual process but I like reminiscing as I go through the photographs. We were so happy then. I absolutely love seeing pictures of when my siblings and I were younger, so full of joy and mischief. So many memories that were wiped away with time came flooding back as I viewed the photos, evidence of my parents' efforts to nurture us kids in the best way possible. It will be a while until this project is completed but I'm so glad that I have these photos to look back on.
Giving Thanks
There are so many people who went incredibly out of their way to help me during this time. Whether it was giving me rides, sharing experiences, or just reaching out to me to say that they care, going through all this would have been much harder without my friends and family.
Hopefully I've thanked you personally but if I haven't, please know that nothing went unnoticed. Receiving so much love and support keeps me inspired to continue to push on so that I can do the same for others.
<3
How Are You Feeling?
This is another one of those tricky-to-answer questions.
For the first week after my father passed away, my answer changed every few minutes. I usually answered that I was "fine" or "okay" but I really wanted to just hang up or stop talking. The answer depended on so many factors. Like how much time do you have? How many times have I had to answer this question already today? How much do you already know about losing a parent? How old are you? How well do I know you? How well did you know my dad?
For the first few days, the emotions came and passed so quickly that it was hard to even pinpoint what I was truly feeling. Things were moving so quickly that I didn't really have time to process things. Now that it has been over a week, I am finally able and willing to talk about it. So here goes.
My father's death came sooner than expected. However, because it was a terminal illness and an inevitable end to this journey, it wasn't quite as shocking and in my opinion, as painful as an unanticipated death. However, it was painful watching him the last two days because he was not able to communicate anymore and had such a hard time simply breathing. I will forever be thankful that at the time of his passing, we had friends and family over. Even though it was late at night, my aunt, uncle, and cousins were here as well as some family friends. It would have been a lot scarier and sadder if it was only me, my mom, and my sister.
That night is kind of a blur and and I'm pretty sure I will start to block out some of the more painful memories with time. My dad passed away at 11:30pm. All I really remember is that when my mom and uncle told me he was gone, I grabbed my mom's stethoscope and kept on trying to find a heartbeat. Then when I couldn't find one, I pleaded with Allan to try to find one as well as he sat there shaking his head. He eventually tried but also did not hear anything. I don't even know what I was thinking or what I was trying to do and thinking back on that moment now, I can't even rationalize anything. After that I spent the majority of the night clutching a pillow to my chest and mindlessly following the adults around. The mortuary came to pick him up later that night and eventually all the visitors trickled out. At the end of it all it was just me, my mom, and Allan.
Throughout the day, although my eyes teared up a lot, I didn't really cry. There was no sobbing or wailing or even weeping. It was a little weird because I'm probably the crybaby of the family by virtue of simply being the youngest but I think it's because I cried so much for my dad while he was still alive and I felt like it was pointless to just sit there and cry once he was gone. People cope in different ways and while crying may be cathartic for some, it just seemed trite at that point in time to me.
My mom was remarkably calm and almost chipper after my dad passed away, saying things like, "He has gone to heaven" and "We should be happy for him now that his pain and suffering is over." However, that same night after all the visitors had left, I heard this wailing sound from the other room. My mom, smiling and optimistic just an hour ago, was crying the most heart-wrenching cry I have ever heard. I didn't go over right away but just listening to her made me cry as well. Finally, after I couldn't stand it anymore, I went over and chastised her.
With tears streaming down my face, voice quivering, I asked her, "Why are you crying? Stop crying. You said this was a happy death and that he's in Heaven now. Stop crying."
Through sobs she replied, "There are just so many things I feel sorry to your dad for. I made so many mistakes."
"Everyone makes mistakes. Just forget about it. How will crying help?"
"I know, I know. It's just.. I just miss him so much."
She hugged me and the two of us just sat there crying for a long time.
After that she said that we needed to keep all the lights on and stay awake otherwise my dad would be lonely by himself. Around 5am or so, I was exhausted so Allan said that he would stay up and I told him to wake me up in a few hours so someone was always awake.
Throughout the next few days, we had a lot of visitors who came over to comfort us. It was nice to have people over and distract us and help make us feel normal. When we talked about my dad it was about his kind and virtuous sides, not the cranky and mean side I still had fresh in my memory. Two of my cousins brought their little boys and I must say, having two adorable little boys, full of energy and exuberant with life, is great anti-depression therapy. How can you stay angry and lament a life of what could have been when there are two shining examples of the possibilities life brings and the joy that it contains? I couldn't help but smile when I saw them running around.
I always thought that after someone close to me died, I wouldn't want to smile or laugh for a while. But that isn't true. If anything you want to smile and laugh more to prevent yourself from falling into an abyss of hopelessness and depression that would be impossible to climb out of.
But even with the visits, of course there were moments of sadness, especially when I was alone. Honestly, I just tried not to think about it. I just thought about what needed to be done for the funeral, what I was going to eat for my next meal, how I was going to distract myself for the next few hours. I just took things hour by hour and after a few days, day by day. People would ask me questions about my future and I would just answer, "I don't know, I don't know."
When the funeral rolled around I was almost in a constant state of annoyance and thinly veiled anger. Again, there was no rationale - just emotions. I was tired of having to say that I was okay even when I wasn't feeling okay and it didn't help that I had to say it a million times a day, every time one of my mom's friends sympathetically asked me. I wasn't looking forward to the funeral and during the first hour I sat in the front pew thinking, "I hate this. Funerals suck."
However, once my cousin gave his eulogy, everything changed. My cousin gave a great eulogy. I cried. I laughed. But most importantly, I remembered. I remembered what a good person my dad was. In my immaturity and crankiness it was so easy to forget his redeeming qualities as I was taking care of him for the last few months. However, as I listened to my cousin speak, I realized that so much of who I am is from my dad. My dad always told us to use our success to help other people, especially those less fortunate than ourselves. He also always stressed family and one of his mantras growing up was, "family first."
I still can't really take a compliment - which is a remnant of growing up with my dad. He was always humble in front of others and would reject or brush off any compliments that came his way. I remember being annoyed when he did that if someone complimented me in front of him but I know that I still tend do that now as well.
I love animals because of my dad. That goes the same for fishing. Many of my food preferences also come from my dad (He used to always say that I had really good taste in food). That said, a lot of who I am also comes from not wanting to make the same mistakes as my dad. But regardless, my dad was an integral part of shaping who I am today. For me, the most regretful aspect out of all this was that it took me so long to realize how much I will really miss my dad. I know I won't miss him yelling at me or anything like that but I will miss the person he was and the dad that helped raise me.
I know time will heal any wounds remaining from this experience. Already in a little over a week I feel so much better than before. I recently started reaching out to people to spend time with instead of being so antisocial. I can finally be optimistic and plan for my future. I am also allowing myself to look forward to things without feeling guilty. I'm still taking things slow but at least it's a start.