Quite the contrary to my initial concern… Its unbelievable how many people were at my moms funeral.
The sheer number of visitors said a lot about the life she lived as an actress, friend, family member, and coworker.
It is very uncommon for so many tears to be shed at a korean funeral.
Most times, the visits are often quite professional, to say the least.
Many people hand in money, sign their name, say their goodbyes and leave.
My mom’s friends and coworkers still text her number, even a week after ther death.
They send her pictures of how happy they were to know her. Of the great memories they had, how exciting it was to meet her and work with her.
I hate that she left at such an early age, and of such bizzarre causes.
I wanted her to see me get married, to hold her grandchildren, to act on stage again.
But maybe, she just had enough.
This was what we wanted perhaps. Maybe those who are left are in more pain than those who have passed.
Never again, I believe will I see such a mix of emotions in a funeral house.
With nothing to pass on, with no other need to visit than just great emotions
Her life was a gift to others, and they will remember
She was an inspiration. She was pure joy. She was love in human form.
It was an honor to hold my place, in such a crowded room.
It was healing for myself too, to embrace her friends who teared up at the sight of me- because “I look just like her”
I am her living legacy, along with many countless works and films that captured her passion for acting.
And 2023 will start as a year of healing and overcoming the loss of someone very special to me.
Ridia's Green Barley 