i reached into my sock drawer and grabbed the first pair of socks that touched my fingertips. i pulled the pink and green striped socks over one of my feet. “ugh… these socks are so worn out… why do i still have them?”
then it hit me – i remember pulling these socks out of those big brown boxes that had endured 6,500 miles of travel. my favorite time of year was when those monstrous packages would arrive from Korea, filled with so many gifts and hand-written notes about how much i am loved, first by God and then by you. you made sure i knew.
it’s been years since the last time i received one of those boxes. the last time i saw you was in 2016, and by then, the dementia had made me unrecognizable to you. you were stuck in a time where i did not exist. you screamed at me, a stranger, to get out of your apartment. i cried for weeks.
it’s been less than two years since you passed, but i never fully got to grieve. between my best friend losing her father, organizing logistics for a coming retreat, having to be strong while my mother cried over you, making daily visits to the hospital after my father’s heart attack, and having a particularly busy season at work, i made plenty of excuses to push your passing out of my mind. i don’t know why it hits particularly hard this week.
i see a lot of you in me. so many things you taught me still play a part in my daily life. small things, like what an appropriate amount of toilet paper is, to big things, like my love for learning and desire to teach new things to others. apparently, we even sing some phrases in the exact same way. even when i did nothing noteworthy, you bragged about me to all the people in the area. you’d be proud of the artistic ability i inherited from you. you’d be proud of my academic success and drive for life. you’d be proud of how much fruit i serve to my friends. i regret more than anything how little i got to see you as i grew up.
i wish i could have told you how great a person you were. beyond your vast skillset, your moral standards and values were far purer than i could comprehend. you truly just wanted the greatest for everyone around you.
your heart was huge. your lifestyle was inspiring. i worked hard to be able to give you reasons to be proud. i worked hard to be like you.
but beyond any other feelings i have at the moment, the greatest is gratitude. beyond any other resources or genes you left behind, i am most thankful for your legacy – your love and dependence for God. i am so, so thankful for your courage to leave your family’s buddhism practices and follow what you knew to be the truth.
your greatest legacy lives in your own daughter (my mother) in the form of strong faith, and it’s spread into my own life, and consequently, the people i love.
i hope you’re resting well. i hope your bones no longer hurt. i hope you’re proud of who i am today, and who i’m working to be.
i don’t even know the last time i got to tell you this, but i love you 할머니. although our time side-by-side was limited, i am eternally thankful for you. praying our paths meet again someday. until then, i’ll think of you and your love every time my eyes wander upon these pink and green striped socks.