To: 할머니

You were my role model, my rock. The one who always had advice to give, who was forgiving, who always loved. Growing up, I always knew I was lucky to have you by my side. I can still remember the days when I would come home from school and see you waiting at the front door, asking me if I was hungry and wanted a snack. After I finished eating and doing homework, I’d venture my way down to the basement to see what your new project was. I’d navigate myself through endless piles of fabric to see you sitting in front of your sewing machine, glasses perched on the tip of your nose and the one single but very bright lamp lighting up your workspace. I’d tell you about my day at school as you continued with your art of making clothes. Then when I was done talking about my day, I would proceed to ask question after question about what you were making. And you would patiently respond to every single one. 

When I think of you, I remember a strong woman, who was passionate and caring and loving. When you were sick, I wanted to be by your side at all times. I remember the amount of times when I argued with my parents to let me skip school and stay with you at the hospital instead. I never won those arguments. It was weird coming home from school and not seeing your smiling figure at the door. I felt so lost and alone.

I remember that day so vividly. Family flying in from Korea to see your face one last time. How I sat there next to you in your unresponsive state, and wanting to stay strong. All around me, I could hear the weeping of my grieving aunts and uncles, the hysterical crying of grandpa, and I didn’t want to cry. I held your cold hand and stroked your white hair and admired the wrinkles on your face one last time. 

At first, life without you was so hard. There were days when I came home expecting to see you in the kitchen or checking the basement to see if you were there. As I walk around the house, memories of you float around.  On rainy days, I still think of you and all the times we would make hand torn noodle soup and listen to the raindrops on the roof. 

Everyday, I strive to be a better person, to be more open and caring for others, to spread happiness, to be more like you. I hope that one day, I can be like you, teaching others about the beautiful things in life, to teach others to accept and to understand, to guide people and be a positive influence on other people’s lives. I want to say thank you.  While I may not be able to experience the beauty of life with you anymore, I will continue to appreciate the little things in life just as you had.

Joanna Lee