Writing about my Mother and Father never seemed like it would be an easy feat
But so far this summer has been all about
Self Discovery and I guess
it would be wise to know your roots before you explore the Tree
I don't know much about my roots except that
They're Korean
My Father was 10 years older than my Mother
I was not their first child
I call them Mother and Father because those words are cold, bitter, distant, cordial
"Mom" feels warm, like fresh baked chocolate chip cookies (Grandma's famous recipe, of course)
"Dad" tastes like the sly, goofy smile as he says "So what did I buy you today?"
I've always dreamed of the day when I stand opposite my Mother
I even scripted out the words I'd say to her
First, Anger
Then, Confusion
Why, Mother?
Why?
Lastly,
Forgiveness
Because even though she "abandoned" me,
She did give me life.
My Father, well
I never really thought about him
This Father's Day, though?
I did.
I have nothing to say about him, except that I imagined he was, perhaps, a businessman.
I wonder if he loved my Mother
Why are you writing about these two people you've only ever met once in your life?
Even that statement smells of uncertainty.
Why would you waste your tears on these ugly human beings?
Accept the fact that you'll never know.
No.
I refuse to accept the truth.
Let me be hurt by their doings but
I know I was not a mistake
Love is jumping into the void knowing no one will be there to catch you and taking that risk anyways
I needed answers and maybe one day I'll get them but for now I am content with what I have.
I have Love, as twisted as it seems,
I will always have Love because Love
is what they gave me
