Asking after My Mother
“I’m going to live with Mom and Dad forever!”
Despite this bold declaration, I left my parents behind and moved overseas as soon as I graduated from university, settling in a country a twelve-hour flight from Korea. My parents anxiously awaited every call. Whenever they heard my voice, Mom would immediately ask whether I was feeling unwell, whether life was difficult, or whether I had enough money to live on.
“I’m fine. I’ll call you again. Bye.”
In truth, adjusting to a culture entirely different from Korea’s was not easy. Living mainly on bread and noodles made me long for my mom’s home cooking. Still, I wanted my parents to see only that I was doing well. At times, I deliberately cut our conversations short, afraid that if we spoke for too long, I might find myself complaining without meaning to.
In time, I met the person I would spend the rest of my life with, and once again, the moment came for me to leave my parents behind. The day before my wedding, Mom and I lay side by side on the bed in my parents’ room, chatting about one thing and another. She still remembered how, as a child, I had declared that I would never marry and would live with Mom and Dad forever. Mom joked that the ones who say such things are always the first to leave, and we both burst out laughing.
Mom asked me to tell her about my time abroad. She wanted to know what had happened, what I had eaten, and how I had felt. I opened up to her about everything, from the hardships I had never been able to show to the moments that had brought me happiness. Mom’s eyes filled with tears when I told her that I had been ill with COVID for several days, and she laughed like a young girl at my stories of mishaps caused by the language barrier. When I spoke of difficulties in my relationships with others, she offered advice as someone with far more experience in life. As I enthusiastically continued sharing my stories, a question suddenly occurred to me.
“Mom, how were you while I was away?”
Mom told me that she had often gone to see the doctor. She worked alongside Dad at one job site after another, and hardly a part of her body was free from pain. Her head, eyes, neck, chest, wrists, and other parts of her body had all been signaling that she needed rest. When the pain became severe, she had even been to the hospital, yet I had known nothing about it. As I watched Mom calmly assure me that she was fine now, guilt and regret stirred within me.
Looking back, I realized that I had never asked her how she was doing. I had often asked other people how they were, yet I had never thought to ask after my own mom. I had simply believed that the best thing I could do was keep her from worrying about me. I had assumed that, of course, she was doing well. Or perhaps, under the excuse that I was already too busy and overwhelmed with my own life, I had selfishly chosen not to take an interest in hers.
Learning from my regret, I made a new resolve. Since I had been unable to keep my promise to live with Mom and Dad forever, I would at least stay in touch with them as often as I could. From then on, I took every opportunity to ask Mom how she was doing, each time silently hoping with all my heart that she would remain healthy, peaceful, and free from worry.
