This morning I happened to think about my mother, who passed away more than 20 years ago. Nowadays, I hardly think of her either during the day or even in my dreams. Naturally, I feel guilty for rarely thinking about Mom, who was such a dear and who devoted her life to her children.
On the night she passed away, she waited until her son’s arrival from Seoul in a sick bed in Busan. It was her last act of caring, shown for her loving son in this life.
Sometimes, I wonder how my life has been after losing my mom. On the night of her death, I could not believe she was no longer with me in this world. I felt that she was in some place waiting for me. Over time, I learned to accept that my mom’s death is part of life. Oblivion helps people cope with grief.
It’s amazing that, during the Joseon Dynasty, some people built huts beside their parents’ tombs and stayed there for three years. It was their way of expressing filial piety. I am not saying that we, who are living in this modern period, should follow such an old-fashioned tradition, but I find myself comparing myself to such people in spite of myself.
They say that all people regret not having been able to take care of their parents better while they were alive, and I am no exception. I should have visited Mom more often, treated her to a nice dinner and said loving words more often. How sad it is, not to be able to do such things anymore.