This is my Hal-Ma-Mi ("Grandma" in Korean).
She passed away last month (April) 2013.
She lived in Seoul, South Korea (I have to put in the "South" because people still actually ask me, "Are you from North Korea or South Korea?" I very politely say, "South Korea.").
Because my Hal-Ma-Ni lived in Korea and I lived in the United States, I didn't know her too well. I left Korea when I was one-year-old so I didn't get to spend time with her. She did come visit us in the United States a couple of times for a couple weeks each time. But even then, I didn't get to spend too much time with her since it was for such a short period of time, I was in school most of the day, and she was splitting her visit among my aunts, uncles, and other cousins. And before you knew it, it was time for her to take off back to the mother land.
It wasn't until I graduated college that I got to spend more time with her. You see, after college, I decided to live in Korea for one year before starting law school. I wanted to "get to know my background." I felt it was important to me to know my "roots." So, I rented a tiny room in Shin-Chon, Seoul, Korea, taught English at various English academies in Korea, and took Korean classes at Ehwa Women's University. And most importantly, I spent some time with Hal-Ma-Ni and my family in Korea.
Hal-Ma-Ni and watched Korean t.v. shows together. She cooked me Korean dishes. We walked around Seoul together. We talked. We laughed. We held hands.
One day she was cleaning out her closet and we came across a bag filled with pictures. We opened the bag and there they were: My "roots." She had pictures of her and my Ha-Ra-Ba-Ji ("Grandpa" in Korean) when they were younger.
She even had pictures of my great- Hal-Ma-Ni and great-Ha-Ra-Ba-Ji.
It was amazing. Staring back at me was my family whom I've never met, yet I would have never been here if it weren't for them.
My grandmother told me she remembered running with my mom on her back during the Korean War. She remembered hunger. And she remembered the death of one of her babies (My mom's older sister) during that time.
Despite all that we talked about and all that she told me, the conversation that sticks in my mind the most is this: I was going to be leaving Korea to come back to the states in a couple of days so I could start getting ready for law school. We were feeling sad because we both knew that after I left we would be thousands of miles apart again and we wouldn't spend the same kind of quality time together, probably ever again. We were sitting at her glass kitchen table with all of her vitamins and medications stacked up one one side of the table against her wall. She said, "Jeami-ya (My Korean name), when will we see each other like this again?" With deep sadness and a lump in my throat, I told her the truth, "I don't know." I followed up by telling her, "If we don't ever spend time like this again on this Earth, we will again in Heaven." My Hal-Ma-Ni promised we would.
Rest in Peace, Hal-Ma-Ni. I'll see you in Heaven.
I love you.
-Jeami
