A letter to mom #2

Mom, I have been sleepless for two nights.

I wish I was thinking of something, or even remembering a memory, but it doesn’t seem to be the case.

I’m just there, thinking of nothing.

When I do fall asleep, I long to see you.

I want to walk with you in green fields and along the coasts of a sunny beach.

Instead, everyone else I know seems to come into my dreams.

As tired as I am, I still walk around with a smile on my face.

Sometimes, I feel so strong.

Sometimes, I feel that I will just evaporate into the cold winter air.

People have been treating me kindly.

I have been trying to do the same.

You have always told me to be a good person, and day by day I learn to understand what you meant.

Day by day, there are more things to do

And soon, I will be pushing away the grief inside of me and filling with other things.

I dread that day where I might not be able to remember your face.

Yours always,


A letter to mom #1

Mom, I miss you.

I know you barely recognized me in your last days, but I still miss your presence.

Dad and I have a better relationship now, maybe thanks to you.

You always looked out for us, and guessing by the people at your funeral-

everyone around you too.

People say that the heavens were jealous that we had you.

They say God took you, because heaven is where you belong.

I want to cry every day, but sadly for me- time goes on.

Wherever you are, I hope you aren’t in the pain I am in.

I hope you are free.

I hope you’re not in pain.

I hope you’re happier.

I hope, you can’t see me and dad live in this place without you.

Because I know you would want to come back for us.

You were the world to me, and I was the whole world to you.

No matter what, I would always love to be your family again.

I’ll always be your family.

We had a complicated relationship, with happiness and grief.

But that is what makes us human right.

I’ll always think of you.

Maybe not every day. Maybe not every week.

As time goes on, I hope that I learn to think of you less.

But you will always have a place in my heart.

Your daughter,


Therapy after mom’s death

I have been off my meds for over a week. No visible side effects, although I can’t seem to understand my own feelings.

Today i booked a quick appointment with my T, who looked shocked to hear about my mom’s death.

We talked about grieving and pain

I talked about how my extended family had hurt me with their words, words meant to be helpful… but caused more pain

I told him i cried in front of my dad, and he in front of I.

I told him we had two more patients moving in to our house.

I didnt have enough time to grieve, yet faced with new obstacles that must be treated

Loss is similar to pain, and grief is similar to anger.

The emotions I have, I can’t fully undetstand.

I hold back tears, even when I am broken.

Why is it so hard for me to let go and let myself heal?

Numbness, talking to myself, seeing or hearing things may happen in the span of the coming month.

Bought my meds, and heading back to work. To the gym, actually. In hopes physical strain can heal my damaged heart.

My moms funeral

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.

Flowers in my moms coffin

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.

Dying at home alone.

This Friday, my mom passed. It was just a few hours before the strike of midnight, on December 23.

My dad called at night, telling me that he had come home and that my mom had passed.

I rushed home. Everything felt fake. I thought I would be okay.

It wasn’t.

We sat there, holding on to her cold body. Her hands were clenched, her feet were shriveling.

Parts of her body looked blue or purple.

Her lips, colorless and dry.

She looked as if she were sleeping though.

We held her in our arms. My dad shed tears of frustration, something I never saw before.

He hated her for leaving us like that. He shouted at her to come back, that it was unfair for her to leave us here.

I called her name, thinking, or hoping, maybe that she would open her eyes, or let out a breath. Nothing.

We called a doctor. He told us that she had died around 5:30 pm. She was alone.

I felt terrible. It was some guilt I suppose.

My dad looked insane and empty. We couldn’t believe it. Even after holding on to her and calling her name for hours.

Her whole world revolved around me. Even to her final days.

I didn’t know what to do, what to say.

We called the hospital and asked if there was a place for her funeral to be held.

Only the biggest room, they said.


We took her to the hospital, cloth over her head.

The weather was insanely cold, and the night air was piercing.

After death, they put her in a morgue. They sprayed her with something to keep away infections.

They asked us to keep the key to her door.

Then they took us into the other room to discuss the funeral.

Even when dying, the prices of the funeral home spooked me.

We didn’t have anyone to help with the process. I called around and looked for professional help.

I sent everyone I knew messages about the funeral.

Everything said and done, we arrived back home at 4, and prepared to go back to the hospital to start the funeral around 9:30.

I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop crying. Morning came, and waking up seemed like dream.

The feeling of waking up to something dreadful, felt as if I were waking up from a coma, or surgery.

I wasn’t in pain, nor was I in a state of anger.

It was just numbness. Numb, but still awake enough to feel that something was terribly wrong.

The feeling of something bad but also inevitable.

That’s how the funeral started. Empty.

Me and my dad, the funeral home, just empty.

I was scared that my mom would leave, like that. Alone. Just as she had died. It killed me to see her picture on the wall, surrounded in ornate flowers with a incense stick burning in front of her.

What do I do when my mom is dying

Death is a reality that lurks over you everyday when a family member is sick.

For me, this Thursday was one of the darkest days of my life.

My dad called at 9 PM telling me to come home and help him get my mom to the ER.

I wasn’t very shocked, she had gone through much worse at times.

When I arrived, that was when it hit me.

My mom’s eyes were blurry, mouth open. Dad had told me she hadn’t been eating for days.

He had told me that day was when things got really bad.

The caregiver who comes to our house 4 hours a day had told my dad she wanted to quit. She was scared that my mom might die in her arms.

Of course it’s scary. Scarier thing is that she might survive and no one will be there to take care of her.

Anyway, first things first. We literally heaved her up into the car.

Her body was aching, her joints were hard.

She was losing consciousness in the back of the car, laying on my boyfriend’s arms.

When we got there, the doctors at the ER told us that her vitals were weak.

I never thought I would hear that in real life.

They sped her past the waiting lines of patients and into a restricted area, and had given her multiple shots.

Dad says they had trouble finding her pulse.

All I could do, is pray.

Pray to whom, well that is still a question that I can’t answer.

They asked if we wanted life support. This is the end I thought.

The end of pain, but also the end of my relationship with my mom. I was confused, sad, angry at the world. I wanted to give in and let go of all the burden I had in my heart.

I prepared myself for loss. I said my goodbyes quietly.

Then she regained consciousness. Her eyes came back and filled with life.

I was perplexed at how relieved and worried I was.

Did I want my mom to die? Surely not. But did I?

What was this emotion I was going through?

Today, I went to my therapist. I needed it. But I had no words to say.

I felt okay. I felt sad. But it wasn’t the end of the world.

I still don’t understand the emotions that I am going through. It’s hard enough for me to have to face death, but it hurts more just to be alive for all of it.

Lies and Hope

Do you believe in white lies?

If lies existed in the workplace, would that be understandable?

The thing that annoys me about the company is that we lie to each other.

We lie about how we feel,

how things are going,

what’s happening,

who’s doing what,

our worth,

our values…

It pains me to work in an environment where we can’t be real with each other with the exception of a certain few.

Why do we trap ourselves in the ego of our outer beings when we are full of… nothing?

Rule one of moving forward: be real. look back and take a cold hard look at yourself from a third person point of view.

How do you understand being laid off

I haven’t been laid off yet.

But so many people around me have already been.

There are empty desks everyday, not to be filled again for a long time.

The thing that sucks the most about these layoffs is that I don’t quite understand where they come from.

Is it based on work performance?

Is it based on return on salary?

Or maybe just based on personal preferences?

Maybe its random?

The thing is, it’s really hard to keep cool when things like this happen.

Not being able to understand why these things are happening, and wondering if this is just my problem for choosing shitty workplaces that fire their employees like they are worth nothing….

It’s quite hard to fathom.

I just wish things would settle down after some time, so that I can learn and work in peace,

Trying to Maintain a Healthy Lifestyle (Is it even possible?)

So maintaining a healthy lifestyle gets harder every year.

Emotional health, bad.

Mental health, bad.

Physical health, bad.

Financial Status, bad.

So basically I’m using money to go to hospitals to take medication for my neck pain

While trying to go to the therapist every week to make sure I can keep living everyday life without breaking down

And trying to stay at work to pay for those bills and the rest of my life

And at the same time trying not to get fired by giving up time I can spend on making my mental and physical health better

And trying to create a side hustle just in case Plan A fails

Seriously, for all of you working out while keeping a career and a healthy mind..

How the F*** are you keeping that up?

Way to go… because I’m at the starting line again.

Life has so many tasks and just too little time.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Reminders of a loved one

Heading back home after a day with my family, stress levels were high.

Literally any song on the radio could bring me to tears that day.

I also noticed that everyday things were all memories of loved ones. People that I would soon lose.

I found that looking at those things would one day bring me tears of joy or tears of sorrow, grieving over what once was there.

Photo by Aljona Ovtu0161innikova on Pexels.com

Mango Juice: My grandma still keeps shit tons of mango juice at her house. She didn’t even know what mango was until I came and lived with her. It was the only juice I would drink as a child, and she still remembers how much I loved it. Seeing juice boxes and 1 liter bottles of mango juice at her house still makes me a little teary.

Baobab Trees and Gypsophila: My moms favorite plants. She was a curious soul. Mom would be fascinated by how the baobab had roots on their tree tops. She loved The Little Prince. She had a wonderful, childlike innocence. Mom also loved Gypsophila. She loved them more than roses. When people gifted her with a bouquet, she would tell me how much she loved the white little bulbs that supported the beauty of the roses.

Small things hold so much meaning when linked to beautiful memories. It reminds me of so much more than just a certain period of time or an event– but more of the person and the people they used to be.

Some things are so hard to let go.