parents
who gave me my heart, my childhood, my identity:
To my parents - thank you for raising me so faithfully and lovingly that I am able to live so freely. I have never once doubted my parents' love for me; I knew they loved me and cared about me in every season of life. My parents have demonstrated full support behind every decision I hesitate to make and have taught me so much wisdom in lesson, fight, and conversation. The ones who shaped the person I am today and who showed me what’s really important in life: God, love, and relationships. We were not wealthy in money, but we were always wealthy in love. And they showed me that love and relationships is where true wealth and richness lies, never in money, academics, or success. I hope I only continue to learn from them here on out and as I grow older.
Appa
Grieving, Creating
Four siblings
One mom
Immigrants from a far off land
Gather together to eat and remember
Him who is not at this table
They talk
And buy flowers
And visit him
With the people they’ve brought along the way
With daughters and husbands and wives
I sit here
Next to him
Under the grass beneath my feet
Name graven into a plaque
Humbled by wonder
At how these people could have made the trek
To an unknown land
And create lives of their own
And create, laugh, smile, and cry
And grieve.
10 years gone since him
years of learning to live with the grief
That they thought they could never do
They have made the impossible
Possible
Of living, creating, and living again.
Umma
Home Sweet Potatoes
Drip, drip. The sound of the rain splattered on Umma's rain boots as she hurriedly walked through the rain drops from school. Rainy cold days were never her favorite–everything became messy because of water and her shoes were muddy from the walk back home. The squelch of her steps made her cringe as she saw mud fly up and land on the bottom of her pants.
But coming home was the best part. She would step into the warmth of her home, the comfort of her mom’s greeting as the waft of the sweet potatoes curled around her and hugged her. Sitting on the table with her mom, still wet from the rain, but happy and content as she peeled back the skin of the sweet potato, warm to touch, and brought it up to her mouth to take a bite. The sweet potato was always soft, baked to the perfect consistency. As she ate, she forgot everything that happened that day and her stresses floated away as she savored that golden sweet potato with the caramelized honey-like bits. Just the sweet flavor of the potato and sitting with her mom was enough to warm her from the blowing winds and the falling rain outside.
It was her homecoming.
Her home.
Home sweet home.
Sweet potatoes.
Home sweet potatoes.
This foreign Land
Move to America, get a college degree, move back to Korea, get a good job.
Unfamiliar people, unfamiliar language, unfamiliar place, unfamiliar culture.
How to make sense of everything?
I could never stay here
Or so I said.
It got harder to study when my parents didn’t have the money
And slowly my dreams slipped away as my graduation date
Pushed back, and little further, then more
And as this happened
The unfamiliar turned familiar
I made friends, made a life of my own
My dream shifted, and suddenly
It didn’t matter whether or not I had a high-paying job
But if I had a life of love and serving God
So I married a man, had a daughter,
then another
And I stayed
In this foreign land
The one I swore I would never make my own.