My daughter married a Korean man when she was 21. She hasn’t been home in twelve years, but every year she sends 8 million pesos.-olweny
They Laughed at the Dad in the Walmart Shirt—Until the Judge Asked for His Full Legal Name-haohao
I asked him why he wasn’t coming home; he was quiet before replying that he was very busy with work, Mom.
I didn’t ask any more questions. Sometimes, a mother becomes cowardly because she’s afraid to hear the truth.
As time went on, I grew up, and I got bigger. My house improved thanks to the money he sent. Everyone says I’m lucky. But how can you be happy if you eat alone?
Every Christmas, I still set out a plate and a spoon for him. For years I’ve been cooking his favorite stew, watching the steaming broth with tears welling in my eyes.
Twelve years is a long time. Finally, I decided to do something I’d never considered: go to Korea to visit him. I didn’t tell him. For a 63-year-old woman who had never been on a plane or even left the country, it was a huge decision.
I asked my neighbor for help with the fines and paperwork. There were just over four hours left, and my hands were almost white from gripping the seat.
When I arrived at the airport, I was confused by the number of people and the language I didn’t understand. I took a taxi to the address my son had given me.
A two-story house in a quiet area. I rang the doorbell and no one answered. The door wasn’t locked, so I pushed it open and went in. The garden was nice but cold, with no human noise and no television sound.
I approached the front door, my hand trembling as I grasped the doorknob. I took a deep breath and slammed the door shut. At that moment, I was stunned.
The room was spacious, clean as if it were almost lifeless. Everything was in order, like a model home, but there was no trace of a man. There were no slippers scattered about, no jackets hanging around, no smell of food or tea—normal things in a house.
I called Mary, but she didn’t answer. The flower on the table was fake, sitting cold on its handle. I went inside. The kitchen was spotless, not a trace of grease, the refrigerator was almost empty, with a few spilled water bottles and some fruit.
I went up to the second floor. There are three doors. The first bedroom only had one bed; the blankets were neatly arranged, there was no sign of two people sleeping there. The living room was full of women’s clothing, not a single men’s garment. My heart began to tremble.
The second bedroom was like an office, tidy but not in constant use. There wasn’t a single photo, not a single object that belonged to Kang Jun. It was as if he had never existed.
Leave a Comment