Grandmother's Calling Hours

I spent some time with my birthfamily last Friday. It was pleasant enough but I could tell that their minds were preoccupied with the health of Grandmother. As usual, Birthfather downed some Soju and began talking about what I should do with my life. He insisted that I marry someone about two years older. I told him I preferred them five to ten years older. That's not entirely true and I don't know what prompted me to say it, other than the fact that sometimes I just like to "bug" him. He reiterated his stance and then, after more conversation, ammended it saying that the only thing that really matters is love.

Last night Grandmother died and apparently Unkyung tried to call me. My stupid cell phone didn't ring as it's been on the fritz, on and off, for the past few months. But I got the news this morning and agreed to meet with them after work.

At first I was afraid I'd be in their home, the four of them crying and begging me to stay longer. I don't get off work until 10PM, so I anticipated being asked to stay well beyond 1AM. It even crossed my mind that they'd insist I spend the night. Such was not the case. To my immense relief, they were having calling hours. The hospital has a separate wing for calling hours. There are several "areas" and so several calling hours were going on at once. Each one has a large room with low tables set up. Connected to that room is a room for mourning and paying respects to a "shrine" to the deceased.

I walked in and saw dozens of people (at least). They were family members and friends who knew "Halmoni" (Korean for "grandmother") and my family. For the most part, everyone was smiling and laughing, but I suspect the main family members had released tears before guests arrived hours ago. I was led into the room with the shrine. There were three Christian crosses surrounding a photo of her. There was a stack of white carnations and I was to take one and lay it on the alter, light a stick of incense. Then I stepped back and was instructed to hold my hands in front of me, bow my head, and take a moment of silence.

The women of the family, my birthmother and aunts, were wearing black traditional Korean dresses called "hanbooks." The collars were white and they looked very dignified. The men of the family all wore black suits with black ties and a black and white-striped armband on their left side. The flowers of choice were lillies and carnations, all white.

The hospital provided food and drinks for the event, the hospital workers standing behind the connected kitchen's counter, making sure the food never ran low. The only thing I could stomach was some egg-fried zucchini and rice.

I felt awkward most of the time as Unkyung had to tend to other guests. My birthmother sat down with me once in a while, and the younger aunts came by periodically to rub my back and give me a warm smile. The uncles constantly tried to speak English to me, which had one of the aunts laughing so hard it seemed she couldn't breathe. She is one aunt I liked from the first time I met her back in February.

Around midnight I decided to leave. To my surprise, no one really had a problem with it. My birthfather was fully drunk at this point and was wearing a pair of too-small, possibly women's, sandals. Unkyung gasped, laughed, and handed him some large slippers. He hugged me, held my face in his hands, and said he loved me and said I was "good." He was clearly struggling to keep his tears "in check." At one point, Birthmother touched her hand to his cheek, looked at her hand, and made a face of mock-disgust upon seeing all the oil and sweat. Birthfather laughed, playfully slapped her hand away, and proceeded to rub his cheek on her sleeve. It was nice.

I also realize that I like my birthmother more and more. We don't seem to need many words. Her sense of humor shines through as she uses hand motions, facial contortions, and sound effects (which she is surprisingly good at) to convey her jokes. She reminds me of my Grandma English and my mother mixed together. Two amazing women. Well, three.

Whew! That's all. I'm tired now and, if you read this entire post, I'm sure you are, too. Night!

P.S. I forget whether you always use a comma before using the word "too" (as I've done above) or whether it's sometimes acceptable to leave the comma out. The books at CDI are messing up my sense of grammar as they have many grammar mistakes. Sometimes hard for me to distinguish the correct from the incorrect.