Father's Life 2
I took a deep breath, blinking away my tears so they wouldn't show, and replied in a calm voice.
"Yeah. But who are you?"
"Ah..."
It was a simple question, but he fell silent for a long time before speaking with difficulty.
"You could call me your maternal uncle. You're in high school now?"
"I'm starting high school this year."
After I mentioned the year I was entering high school, he paused to choose his words carefully, then took a deep breath and said,
"Could you... bring Yeon-mi... no, your mother to see me?"
"That's..."
I couldn't respond easily.
He was my father, whom I'd trusted more than anyone, and the one who'd hurt me the most deeply. It was hard to casually say I could just bring Mother—who must have been wounded even more profoundly—to the hospital.
Noticing my hardening expression and deepening thoughts, the doctor approached the maternal grandfather's bedside. The old man's face showed pain, as if he wanted to say more, but soon he prescribed something, closed his eyes slowly, and began breathing evenly.
"Your grandpa got too worked up, so I gave him a sedative first. You should at least let him see Yeon-mi's face before you go..."
"You mean..."
"He's old, and whatever he's been carrying in his heart... it's not good. Not for that long. I tried to find Yeon-mi, but she changed her number and moved, so there was no way to track her down. I'm truly grateful that you came to see your grandpa first."
A whirlwind of unfamiliar emotions left me dazed and unable to grasp hold of myself.
In the midst of it all, I called the mart where Mother worked and got her on the phone.
"Mom."
I'd barely said the word when she sensed something was wrong.
"Joo-in? What's going on? Are you okay?"
"Mom... I'm not okay. It's too hard. Can you come?"
Having lost her husband and thought her eldest son had grown up, Mother didn't even let me explain further before hanging up and rushing to the hospital.
I felt guilty for calling her without a proper explanation, but fear that she might live with lifelong regret left me no choice but to deny her even that.
"Joo-in, what happened? You okay?"
Upon arriving, she grabbed my face—her eyes rimmed red—and her hands trembled with terror bordering on fear. I clasped her scorching-hot hands in mine and led her toward the maternal grandfather's room.
Even before seeing his face through the door, Mother sensed something and stood shaking, unable to open it.
I hugged her tight, sat her in the chair for family outside the room, and called over the maternal uncle.
The uncle asked me to buy some drinks. It was an excuse, of course—just a way to get me out of there for a bit. I pretended not to notice and said sure, then stepped away.
But from down the distant hallway, out of sight, I trusted my enhanced body and strained my ears to listen.
Mother's confused eyes darted about unsteadily, but she held back her tears.
"It's been a long time, bro."
"Yeon-mi... is it really you? I tried so hard to find you and your husband, but I was about to give up..."
Seeing her uncle's reddening eyes, Mother's wandering hand gripped his tightly.
"I was about to give up too... But thank you for finding me."
"It wasn't me. Your son came to the hospital."
"I see..."
"No matter how much you cut ties, blood doesn't sever that easily."
Mother's expression—different from her usual one—held a quiet depth of resentment in those words.
"As if Dad would ever. He cast us out so easily."
Watching her face, the uncle let out a deep sigh and continued haltingly.
"Surprised I became a doctor?"
"Not big bro, but you? Time really is amazing. The little brother who used to pull childish pranks on me."
"There was a reason I went astray."
"Huh?"
"Maybe I'm the only one left in the family who knows."
"Knows what...?"
"The man you know as your 'little uncle's dad'—our father—and the one I call 'Grandpa,' your father... they're not blood-related."
"What?"
The shock hit Mother so hard she slumped back into the chair as if her strength had drained away.
"No way. Dad... Father..."
"Yeah, Grandpa always put family matters ahead of his own. It must've hurt you deeply as a child."
"Is there something I don't know?"
"You know our parents were from the liberation generation, right?"
"Yeah..."
"I didn't know this either. Right before Grandpa passed, he called only him—our Grandpa—for a talk. I overheard by chance. When they investigated our family for pro-Japanese collaboration, he claimed he'd helped smuggle independence fighters' kids abroad financially from behind the scenes, and that's how he got entered into the family registry. Probably out of loyalty to our dying grandfather, who reached out when times were toughest. To be honest, I was so shocked I couldn't think straight... I missed parts and just happened to overhear their conversation."
"You're talking about when Grandpa passed and you started wandering?"
"Yeah. Hearing we were suspected of pro-Japanese ties and learning that truth sent me spiraling."
"But it all got cleared up in the end, didn't it?"
"It's not that easy to separate cleanly. You know what our family did under the military regime?"
"Well..."
"It was no different. They'd do anything to survive. But helping our great-grandpa once to cover his tracks doesn't make him not pro-Japanese..."
"I had no idea you were wrestling with that."
"I can say it now. Back then, I couldn't even bring it up."
"..."
"He didn't just solve that huge issue. He cared for Father and Aunt more than his own blood and jumped into every family matter, big or small, as if he never wanted to repeat past regrets..."
"Regrets?"
"Grandpa's name—Cheon O-roe Nan. I thought it was a misspelling of the characters, but no. He chose it himself when entering the registry. It means repenting, lamenting, tormented by anguish. In those chaotic times, maybe he lost his whole family? That's why he always stepped up for any 'family' without hesitation."
"Is that true? But he was so indifferent to me."
"He was indifferent to you, yeah—sometimes it baffled even me. But remember when you brought your fiancé to announce the marriage and he exploded in anger?"
"He absolutely forbade a North Korean. I still feel sorry thinking how hurt Namsan was."
"Maybe Grandpa just didn't know how to show love?"
"What do you...?"
"I don't know what I'm saying either, but I was scared of him. Always yelling loudly. But he told me once: Grandpa loves you, he just doesn't know how to express it."
"But he treated relatives one way and me cruelly another. Totally different."
"Maybe he was at a loss because you were so precious. Raising a little girl alone, he leaned on Aunt a lot. But... this is just my hunch... maybe Aunt fueled the misunderstandings between Grandpa and you."
"Aunt...?"
"She's been siphoning his wealth bit by bit, and now even the remaining land... when he passes... I can't stand to see it. That's why I searched so hard for you and your husband. But no luck... Ha..."
"She was like a mother to me..."
"I thought so too. If not for that incident."
"What incident?"
"The accident when you and your husband came looking. I suspect Aunt egged it on. Just a hunch, no proof... And after I became a doctor, I realized... Grandpa's hands don't move freely from all the hardship in his youth, right?"
"Dad's... joints were bad?"
"He hid it from you, wanting to show only the good side. But the tremors and stiffness were severe; he couldn't control them sometimes. I think he got angry, excited, and the symptoms made him drop the grandchild. I wasn't there, and now we can't hear the full story from those involved, so I can't be sure... but that's what I want to believe."
"Ah... Father..."
"Yeon-mi, it's natural to be angry. Be angry. Just face each other, vent, talk it out. You know ignoring it and waiting for time to pass isn't a solution..."
Looking at Mother's bewildered face, the uncle forced out the words.
"I'm not saying Grandpa was right. He just needed someone to resent, something he could hate freely by calling it a 'red' commie. Not rational, I know—no answer there. But given the era, when your loving daughter brings that hated enemy as her husband, his anger exploded. Still, I think that day's incident was an accident. I don't know how bad his hand joints were then, but now they're practically frozen..."
"..."
"Yeon-mi. Do you hate Father?"
"..."
"Even if you do, would you meet him once? Just talk?"
"I... I'll meet Father. And ask if he really loved me."
"Good."
The uncle supported Mother as they opened the room door and went in.
After it closed, all I heard was Mother's sobbing.
How ironic, sad, and empty it must be—to face the object of lifelong resentment, frail and bedridden, welcoming you.
I waited... and waited... for Mother to come out of the room.