Our much anticipated visit to my parents' home at the end of September was fraught with one challenge after another. About ten days before I was to leave for Ohio, I had arguably the biggest fight with my mom that I've had since living outside of her house. Raised voices, locked doors, hanging up on one another... it was bad. I almost cancelled the trip, but I knew that would be a mistake made in the heat of my emotion.
Then, after my mother and I reconciled which was a small miracle (thank you, Lord!), the power went out in my parents' home for seven days. Every day, I would call, as the date for our departure drew nearer, and ask, "Is it on yet?"
And she would reply, "Not yet. Maybe tomorrow."
And I called back the next day, "Is it on yet?"
"No, not yet."
My mom was pretty calm the first four days, but by the fifth day, she was losing sleep, wondering if the power outage would ruin her week with the grandchildren. Thankfully, it came back on three days before we left California. (Thanks again, Lord!)
The first several days of our visit were spent celebrating my mom's birthday, reveling in doing nothing all day long, and watching Korean dramas, cartoons and all the other gifts of cable tv. One definite highlight for me was presenting my mom with a scrapbook of memories from my two sisters and me. We had each written her a letter as well as four or five of our most outstanding memories and had compiled them all in a little 8x8 scrapbook, complete with pictures from the past sixty years. She adored it. She laughed over the memories and exclaimed over each photo. My sister thinks she probably shed a few tears in private over the letters. The book was a labor of love, and it was extremely gratifying to see her enjoy it.
Everything seemed to be going well until the last day when my mom took my husband and eldest son out onto the golf course. They don't call her "Tiger's Mom" for nothing. She is an avid golfer and an exceptional athlete. My son, who received his first set of golf clubs from my parents last Christmas, was itching to get out onto a real, bona-fide course. They settled on doing nine holes at a local community golf club.
Apparently, my husband tells me, the first five holes were a dream. They were enjoying themselves immensely, and my son was holding his own. Both father and grandmother were extremely proud. Then, at the sixth hole, my mom came up behind my son to help him with his swing, when the driver came ripping backwards and clipped my mom right on the nose.
My husband drove her to my father's medical office, where he stitched her up before my eyes. I almost fainted watching him tug away at her skin with the curved needle, blood pouring from the cut and internally from her nose. Her face was swollen and purple, and she clenched her eyes shut, blocking out the pain. I squeezed her hand. It's awful to see your mom wounded like this.
When my son came out of the car, he ran to me, buried his head into my waist, and sobbed. Overwhelmed by terror and remorse, he felt so completely awful. My heart went out to him. My husband in his wisdom was able to calm him and also to warn him to be careful about thinking thoughts that weren't true of the situation. "It's not your fault. It was an accident. It's...not...your...fault."
My dad, after stitching my mom up, drove her to the nearest emergency room, where the cat scans showed she had suffered two fractures. Since they were due to leave on a cruise in three days, they were relieved to hear that even though her nose was broken, they could still travel. As we waited at home, packing up our suitcases to prepare for our journey home the following day, my son wrote his grandmother a get well card. It read:
Dear Halmoni (Grandma),
I hope you get better soon. I love you.
I am sorry that this happened.
I really wish it hadn't happened.
Hope we can play golf again soon!
Love,
Charlie
I loved that he could be so optimistic in the midst of a painful situation. He can be very hard on himself, but his spirit is still full of hope. For me, this visit with my parents was bookended by some hard and difficult situations. Emotional and physical hurt intertwined with expressions of enduring love. At the end of the day, we're still on each other's side. It's complicated. It's messy. It's family.
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