Letters Never Sent Home
words by Evelyn Pak, art by Katherine Shi
“Robber woman, that girl,”
My uncle whispered under his breath
As the marriage ceremonies came to an end.
Mother, I was too young to understand
That my cousin took with her more than just the bags of silk and coins
Or why she stared longingly at home from the decorated palanquin.
Mother, I was too young to notice
That our family had just lost a daughter and all that was left of her were
The tears in the corners of my aunt’s eyes.
—
I can no longer remember the last time I was home.
My husband tells me that Older Brother has passed the civil service exam.
Mother, as I set up feasts for my mother-in-law’s birthday,
I often think about what dishes you made for my brothers and my father.
As I nurse the blisters on my hands and feet,
I imagine the celebratory banquet you must have held:
The scent of sweet rice wine and crisply fried vegetables filling the air
Accompanied by warm laughter and familiar faces.
Even as I follow your detailed recipes,
Nothing tastes quite as delicious as it once did long ago.
—
“Daughters are all sinners.”
You told me once while brushing my hair
The night after your father passed away.
Mother, when you first said this, I was filled with rage and resentment.
But, now as all I can do is painfully wait for news of your health while
Unable to be by your side,
I cannot help but remember those words.
—
Mother, I grieve for you in hidden corners of this foreign house,
Swallowing my tears while listening for footsteps.
Our jokbok, a record of our family’s history, has no mention of our names.
Mother, though there is no written record of our existence,
I wonder if your perfume haunts the floors you walked across a thousand times
And if our old walls are still scarred by the
Remnants of my childhood antics.
—
“He is your family now. Serve your husband well.”
Father’s last letter to me begins and ends as such.
His words and your face flash in my mind as I scream in pain.
My husband flaunts his newborn son in his arms as his parents
Coo and laugh at the swaddled boy.
Though so many hands reach out for him,
There are no open arms waiting to embrace me.
—
Am I to throw myself in front of a tiger,*
To fall into the sea,**
To earn my right to live?
Where does the blood and sweat
I must shed flow back into?
Mother, please tell me,
Is there any place left for me to call home?
* According to the myth of “Mrs. Hyon & the Tiger,” a daughter-in-law demonstrates her filial duties by throwing herself to a tiger to save her father-in-law.
** “The Tale of Shim Cheong” is a story of how a daughter throws herself into the sea as a sacrifice so that her father’s sight can be restored.
