To celebrate our first child’s birthday and share a meal together, my wife and I decided to visit their place. It had been five months since the oldest left home for work and the second for college. A couple of months ago, we had visited them, but the joy of the reunion was short-lived. We ended up scolding them and returned home heavy-hearted after seeing how hurt they were.
My wife, who had carefully prepared homemade side dishes for that visit, seemed even more upset than I was. I thought she would never make food for them again. But as if nothing had happened, she began preparing side dishes once more.
“Why go through all this trouble again when the kids don’t even appreciate it? We could just give them some spending money and be done with it,” I said, half-scolding, as I looked at the table covered with dishes—radish kimchi, soy-braised eggs, and stuffed cucumbers. It was the first time she had ever made stuffed cucumbers.
“If you’re going to make something, at least make what they like.”
“Our oldest said he was craving this.”
“Still, isn’t this too much work?”
“At least if there’s some food at home, they’ll cook for themselves. If not, they’ll just end up buying instant food or takeout.”
“We should get some sleep if we want to leave early tomorrow,” I said, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Watching her follow a recipe video so intently tugged at my heart.
My wife, who had poured so much of herself into caring for me and the kids, had quietly grown into middle age. I used to think she was just a sensitive mom who got upset easily when the kids did not seem grateful. But now I see her as a deeply devoted mother who still wants to give, even in the smallest ways, to her grown-up children who have left home.
I hope our kids eat those stuffed cucumbers and think of their mom—with warmth, love, and gratitude.