Sitting on the floor in the satellite number one at the Narita international airport terminal in Tokyo, Japan. The second half of our trip was a whirlwind, seemed to go by in a second, which is why I haven’t had time to update. However, it did include a stag beetle, several pints of Cass, a barefoot walking path that was like the seventh circle of hell, Drew flying through the air like a cannonball wearing nothing but a taegukgi, and Chi-Mek and noraebang with Gayoung.
I think it’ll take a few days to gather myself to return to the reality of daily life again. I’m less than three hours departed from Seoul, and I already feel an emptiness. Leaving Korea is always hard. I’ve cried on the flight home thirteen hours straight under the scratchy airline blanket. No tears yet this time, but my heart broke when Omma called at 7:30 this morning right before I was about to return my rental phone at the airport. After asking if I was at the airport and whether I had eaten, she started crying, and all I could do was murmur, “Oh, Omma, Omma. Manh-i sarang hae.”
Talking one night with my friend Joon over coffee, he gave Amul some advice for the care and feeding of Korean adoptees: plan on budgeting for yearly or every-two-year pilgrimages back to Korea. And really, it’s true. I feel the pull to go back, even more so now with the bonds of love tying me Omma, Gayoung, and all the Imos and Imo Halmonis. Amul concedes, but is still holding out for a vacation where it’s just the two of us, with no family obligations. Our much talked about getaway to Europe for our honeymoon which has been postponed yet another summer. Ah, but I digress, and boarding begins soon.
I’m determined to use the trans-Pacific flight to transfer photos from various camera SD cards to my hard drive, so hopefully photos coming soon.