I have a lot of anger inside of me right now. This disease has taken it’s toll physically, but even worse, the emotional impact has really started to get to me. This post started out much differently. All I wanted to do was spew hate and discontent for being placed in this awful situation and putting my family through so much – but I decided to pull back. I deleted the paragraphs full of expletives and thought to myself, this isn’t the time for negativity, even though at times that’s all I feel. Yes, my body has been ravaged, but I’m still somehow standing. Yes, the pain I’ve experienced has been the worst I’ve ever had to endure, but I’m still somehow standing. Yes, this is the most scared I’ve ever been in my entire life, but I’m still somehow standing.
Hyper pigmented skin, stick figure arms, bruised and scarred all over, distended belly and swollen feet/ankles due to edema, skin rash… and yet I’m still standing.
I’m still standing because of three very precious individuals.
MOM
In Korean culture, kids have a special relationship with their mothers. This is typically because Korean men (fathers) are usually the sole breadwinners, and so it’s on Mom to raise the kids. My dad worked a lot when I was a child, so I didn’t see him as much. Accordingly, my mother did most of the child rearing during my elementary years. The twist is, my mom also worked full time to help support the family, while raising me. It couldn’t have been easy, and she’ll try to convince you that she made a lot of mistakes as a mother. She had me when she was very young – and the so called mistakes are more than understandable given she was barely in her early twenties when we emigrated to the United States. As an immigrant with limited English skills, my mom worked as a housekeeper for a few different motels and inns. Basically earning minimum wage, cleaning up after people’s mess. It was physical work. I remember as a child, I didn’t get “summer vacations” so I’d follow my mom to work quite often since we couldn’t afford a babysitter. I’d spend many hours in the laundry room of the inn my mom worked at, eating snacks and trying to listen to the TV over the loud noise of the industrial laundry machines. Even when I smell fabric softener today, I’m reminded of those days – waiting for my mom to finish cleaning the rooms so we could go home in the afternoon. Sometimes, as a treat, my mom would be able to let me into an empty hotel room so I could watch cable TV without all the laundry machine noise. While all my friends were at camp or Disneyland for the summer, I followed my mom to work, and yet these are some of the fondest memories I have as a child. My mom cleaned rooms for a living, but was always proud of her work. For that I love her immensely.
My mom continues to do physical work, but at a hospital. Pushing around a cart just like back in the day. She says she likes it, but I feel bad because I know her body can’t keep it up forever.
Right now she is on leave from work to take care of me and accompany me to my visits to the clinic every day. A month or two back, I remember holding my mom’s hand at the clinic and noticing how rough and cracked her skin was and how swollen her hands looked. I started to tear up. She sacrificed a lot of her youth to give me a good life, including her once pretty hands. Years of pushing carts and vacuum cleaners, but happy to have a job. This is true sacrifice. This is a good mom. The best mom. I love you mom.
DAD
My dad’s not a large man, but he’ll always be seven feet tall in my eyes, towering over me as I hold onto his leg as a little boy. I’ve always looked up to my father and told myself – If I grow up to be half the man he is, I’ll be okay.
If you ever meet my dad, you’ll notice he’s a man of few words. His side of the family must live by the mantra: actions speak louder than words. As I mentioned, my dad worked a lot when I was growing up. For the first few years we lived in the US, I remember he’d come home from work to eat dinner and then head back to the dental lab until the early morning. He basically worked 24/7. No weekends. No vacations. He did what he had to to do to put food on the table and a roof over our heads. I of course missed seeing him. What boy doesn’t want to spend time with his father? But I never once resented how much he worked. It was so painfully evident that he would have rather been home and was making a huge sacrifice for me and my mom. He never made it to many of my little league baseball games, but I remember as a kid, I had to have this certain glove and certain baseball bat. Both were not cheap. He didn’t flinch to buy me whatever I wanted. Not because he felt guilty, but because he wanted me to have everything he couldn’t have as a child (my father grew up incredibly poor).
Looking back, I know I was spoiled as an only child – but if one good thing came from being spoiled, it’s having a clear picture of what a strong work ethic is. My father has the strongest work ethic of anyone I’ve ever met and I hope to emulate that. My dad worked hard to give me all the opportunities he never had, like attending college and grad school. I will follow his example and do the same for my kids someday.
My dad’s my hero. He’s Korean MacGyver (he can fix anything). He has a tough love approach to my journey to recovery which can be hard at times, but necessary I’m sure. Thank you dad, for your mentorship, your unrelenting example of what it means to be an honorable person, and for the sacrifices you continue to make for our family. I love you dad.
ANNA
It’s actually hard for me to start writing this without having hot tears streaming down my face. Anna. The love of my life. Where do I even begin.
If my parents are the ones holding my up by each side, it’s Anna who is gently pushing me forward to get better.
When I first started dating Anna, I didn’t know what to make of her. I didn’t know someone so beautiful, warm-hearted, smart, and funny could exist in the world – and yet here she was. For whatever reason, giving me the time of day.
I don’t know what she sees in me, but I stopped questioning her reasons for loving me a long time ago. What is clear to me is that her love is unconditional. Something I’ve never experienced before from anyone aside from my parents. For those of you who have someone like this in your life, I’m sure you’ll agree – the feeling is inexplicable. Having someone love you and pick you up when you’ve hit rock bottom.
I never really believed in soulmates until I met Anna. I don’t even know if I told her this, but I fell in love with her the first day we met – and my feelings for her grow stronger each day. She is absolutely my soulmate. I distinctly remember early on in our relationship, vowing to myself that I would spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy and protecting her from all the bad things in the world. Unfortunately, I don’t know think I’m living up to my promise. Now that I’m sick, it’s Anna who has stepped up and taken care of me along with my parents. She is a gift sent from heaven. My mom and I say this almost daily. Without her, I don’t know where my family and I would be right now.
I’m writing the least about Anna because there are too many precious memories that I want to selfishly keep to myself at this moment. I hold onto these and think about them when I’m at my lowest and darkest.
It’s hard not to feel bitter sometimes. To be missing out on the life we once had before I got sick – but as she’ll tell me over and over, this is temporary. We’ll get back there soon and we’ll appreciate life even more. She’s right.
I’ve learned so much from Anna in the relatively short time I’ve known her, and she makes me want to be a better person every day. I hope I can one day give her everything she deserves in life. She’s my everything and I adore her to the moon and back. I love you Anna. More than you’ll ever know.
Cherish the special people in your life. You can never tell them too often how much you appreciate and love them for all that they do for you.
Cheers,
Eddie
Still in the fight.