After 7 years...

June 21, 2009
22:40KST

I finally landed in Korea and arrived in my grandparents’ home. It’s weird being back after seven years. Everything is just as I remembered it, except the home feels smaller. The bathroom, kitchen, bedrooms are all the same, just updated with newer furnishings. But of course, the people living within the house have all aged seven years, my grandparents seeming much older than I remember.

My grandmother had her stroke and lost the use of her left arm long before my last visit during the 2002 World Cup in Korea. Her health hasn’t deteriorated much but just within the past seven years, she has aged lots. As soon as I walked in, she kept reminiscing about the years she basically raised me as an infant and my heart ached. The last time I saw her I was 12, still a mere child, and now by Korean standards I am 20, a young woman.

I’ve heard all the stories of my two years in Korea as an infant with my mom’s family raising me away from my parents who were working hard to make a living back in Hawaii. I was spoiled and adored since I was the first grandchild in the family and I’m sure because everyone felt sorry for me – I was a baby living without her parents.

I recalled a phone conversation I had with my grandmother a few weeks before – it seems that as she ages she remembers more of my childhood. The subject of my major came up and as I explained that I had chosen Business tentatively, she jokingly brought up something I said to her a long time ago (I don’t even remember how old I was). My mom used to tell me I should become a doctor, so without really thinking about it, I’d always say I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up (even though I didn’t really want to). She asked me if I remembered telling her I would be a doctor so I could cure her of all her illnesses (that made me think I was probably around 11 at the time).

I did remember, and it made me sad. I wished I had that passion and motivation and it hurt to think of how much she had suffered. When I found out about my grandfather’s bout with oral cancer and surgery (removal of part of his tongue and some teeth), it scared all of us. It made me realize that my grandparents aren’t going to be around much longer, as much as I’d love for them to be at my wedding. Korean families have different relationships with elders and the same goes for my family. Because of the language and culture difference, not to mention the distance between our homes, and the inability of my grandmother to travel due to her illness, phone conversations usually amounted to the basics: health, studies, and promises to do well.

But I do have a special relationship with my grandparents that is different from my brother. Because they raised me, and because my mom told me many of the things that happened, it aches to see them now. I sat through dinner in silence, watching how my grandmother’s eyes darted sideways and how my grandfather mumbled through his speech, and how my aunts talked to them as if they were children and were tired of babysitting. It made me wonder if I’ll have that resolve when my parents get that old. It’s different in America, where children don’t live in the same house as their parents and take care of them when they leave or get married. In Korea, it’s almost expected for people to insist on living with their parents and taking care of them into old age instead of putting them into a senior home.

The bond between a parent and child cannot be treated lightly. It is a bond bound by love, regardless of its circumstances and must be treasured as such.

I’ll just be satisfied with the knowledge that if and when that time comes, I’ll be ready for it and I’ll know what to do.