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I am the youngest of four brothers and four sisters. My mom
was pregnant at her age of 42. She tried to abort the unborn
child, but she failed. She couldnt help deciding to give birth
to him/her. Being afraid of showing the fact that she was
pregnant at the old age of 42 to the other children, she had
to wear an abdominal bandage during her pregnancy. From birth
to my toddling, my father brought me up carrying me on his
back. Thats why I would prefer sleeping with my head on my
fathers arm to nestling in my moms breast whenever I hardly
fell to sleep. When I was a grown-up child, I felt more comfortable
in his presence from telling on my daily work to earning pocket
money. She felt sorry that I loved my father more than her,
but it couldnt be helped.
Last winter, I had returned home late at night for a few
days because of the year-end party and the new-year party.
On every next day of such nights, there continued psychological
warfare between mom and me. She used to say, I have brought
up the four daughters, but you are the only one that wants
me to make broth to relieve the hangover from the drinking
of the last night. I was late without notice that I would
be late as usual. It was because of the atmosphere during
the dining together, but it was ill feeling against her that
made me so. Beyond the midnight, I stepped the alley with
my shoulders dropped. My mom stood there, saying, Is that
Young-mi? Is that you? It was mom. It was MY mom. As far as
I can remember, she has never called my name so genially before.
On that chilly night of winter, she had been waiting for
me for more than two hours. She threw her overcoat over my
shoulders. At the very moment, I was surprised at her cold
hands from sharp air.
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