This past Sunday marks five months since my grandfather past away. Some of you reading this may think that I am still going through some sort of mourning period, but actually I’ve overcome a lot of my grief. I honestly think it’ll take several years before I function normally again – and I have no problem with that. For the time being, I’ll just write about him in my blog.
Almost every woman has a strong male figure in her life. It could be the father, an uncle or a teacher. For me, it was my maternal grandfather. I still ponder (and no doubt will always ponder about this until I die) about what made him so fascinating to me. It’s a mixture of respect, fear and wonder. I often believe I loved him so much because he is a Taurus and I’m a Virgo so naturally (according to astrology) our sun signs harmonize :). But of course, I know this is just a superficial reason; I know that deep down there is a deeper connection.
When I was little, I was always afraid of my grandfather. He was silent, stern and never openly smiled (but never really frowned, unless something really upset him); and when he did speak (never to me) it always seemed to be about something very, very serious.
My grandfather is the second to the left, in the open blazer and crooked necktie.
I do remember enjoying playing in his room after he would leave for work every morning (8:30 a.m. sharp). I loved going through his closet and looking at his clothes. And I would just adore taking his pillow and snuggling into it for my afternoon nap. I still remember his smell: a wonderful mixture of aftershave, smoke and laundry detergent.
As I grew up, my fear of him melted away and it became second nature to just talk to him whether or not he cared to respond. I found this to be a great way to bond with him:
Me: Are you hungry? Should we have lunch now?
Grandpa: Hmmm.
Me: I’m hungry too! What would you like to eat?
Grandpa: (silence)
Me: Perfect. I want to eat sandwiches too!
That’s how most of our conversations rolled along. Sometimes, when we would watch TV together, I would get so enraptured in one of my own soliloquies that I would find myself talking for 2 – 3 minutes straight without a single sign from him that he was listening. I often interpreted his silences as a sign of being engrossed in the subject matter of my talking frenzies. However, every once in a blue moon he would say something and it would startle me. Once, while watching a TV show in the evening, our conversation went like this:
Me: (already talking for three minutes about the characters on a TV show): … they should understand that displaying these types of unrealistic scenarios and these fairytale-like dramas just delusion the viewers into thinking that this could be real life. It’s psychologically unhealthy…
Grandpa: How is it that you have so many things to say?
Me: (startled) I don’t know. I just like to talk – I like talking to you, Grandpa[1]!
Grandpa: (silence).
Phone conversations weren’t any different. Where I could easily end a conversation with “I love you, grandma,” and my grandma would respond so sweetly; telling me she loved me too and that she prayed for me and that I had to eat well and take care of myself. With my grandfather it would go in one of two directions:
The first way:
Me: Take care. I love you, Grandpa!
Grandpa: (pause) Thanks.
Hangs up the phone.
The second way:
Me: Take care. I love you, Grandpa!
Grandpa: (pause) I know.
Hangs up the phone.
But I must admit that he was sentimental, and I believe I inherited my love for all romantic things from him (as odd as that may seem). I honestly believe this, because one evening as we were watching a ridiculously twisted love story on Korean television, there was a scene where the two main characters (the lovers of the story) were walking through a park under the moonlight, holding hands and telling each other jokes.
Grandpa: Do you do things like that?
Me: Yeah, only if there’s a boy that I like.
Grandpa: Is there a boy that you like?
Me: Sometimes, it depends… because I’ll start to like a boy, get to know him and then I don’t like him anymore.
Grandpa: That’s not how it’s done. If you like him, it means you like him. And then you do what they do (points to the two characters on the TV screen), isn’t it so nice… and then you get married.
Me: Oh, I see.
What I wanted to ask him at that time is, if he ever did things like that. But I know the answer is no, because I already asked my grandmother about their courtship. They had an arranged marriage.
This is my favorite picture of my grandparents taken in front of my grandfather’s company in the 1960’s.
I don’t know too much about his career or his company, but I know he was a self-made man. He started working when he was 16 years old (during the Japanese occupation of Korea) at a housekeeping job for a Japanese family.
Later, when there weren’t any jobs in Seoul (where he was originally from) he had to work in a factory in North Korea. Of course, this was before the civil war and before the country was split in half. After his job ended, he moved back down south.
A picture of the factory workers before the war… where’s Waldo? :)
He’s in the middle with the puffy hair, wearing a black jacket. He was about 20 years old.
As you can see in the group photo above, the people with the armbands have already begun to adopt the communist ideology.
Back in Seoul, he met my grandmother, married her, survived the civil war and began his own bus/public transportation business. Apparently, he was quite the handyman and figured out how to re-use old motors that the American army threw away. His small bus business eventually became a large company.
Opening day of his new company. My grandpa is waiting to be introduced. He looks so humble, he always was. :)
Towards the end, he often liked to watch TV shows about charity and giving to those who were in need of help. Although my grandmother always complained that my grandpa was tight-fisted, I believe he was always generous, especially to his family. He knew the true value of every cent and did not like to waste.
He was an amazing man and lived a good life. I hope that I can do the same.
[1] In Korean, it’s customary to refer to someone not as “you” but their position in the family. In this case, even though I’m speaking directly to my grandfather, I cannot say “I like talking to you”, I have to say “I like talking to (you) Grandpa”
11-1-2010 
Shayna and me right before her older brother’s wedding ceremony. Hopefully, I’ll get to wear a sari again when I’m in India! 
