Grandmother

I bought my grandmother a set of watercolor painting tools.

My mother’s mother lives alone. Her days consist mostly of doing housework, watching the television, and occasionally going out to see her friends.  Her spacious apartment is carefully decorated with ornate plates, elegant furniture and smells of fresh hand-brewed coffee. Her bedroom is a room with a bed, and a television almost as big as the bed. There’s a separate room solely dedicated to her makeup and clothes. When she meets with her friends all they talk about is their offspring and their accomplishments. 

She lives 10 minutes away from my house.

She studied medicine when she was young, but couldn’t graduate because she was almost forced to marry my mother’s father. She quit college her junior year and became a wife at the age of 21, and the mother of three children at the age of 25, where her mother-in-law passed, leaving her the family duty of Jaesa, a taxing yet essential part of Korean culture to commemorate one’s ancestors. Though being a talented individual in many aspects such as art, fashion, and science, she rarely had the chance to cultivate such aspects due to her duty as a wife and mother.

So now here she is, after all these years and her children with their own children, living a life more prosperous than that of hers, where they are free to explore themselves like learning how to sing or running an interior design company.

One beautiful summer day, I sat with her on her elegant yet hollow apartment, having an overly well-prepared meal for breakfast. I asked her what she wanted to do, to which she replied: “ I don’t know, I used to paint, but now doing housework and drinking good coffee from a pretty cup”. 

I never gave much thought. But there she was, not knowing what to do, pursuit of her own happiness or personal development never really a priority. I always thought, rather arrogantly, that being a good grandson is just doing well in school and being a good person, that my own success and well-being would somehow benefit her. It does make her happy, when I win awards and get good grades. But I guess I have never considered my grandmother’s own personal happiness and her own identity as a person. I want my grandmother (and all other grandmothers) to pursue her own interests, become a little more selfish, and do what they have always wanted to do, and regain her personal identity that she sacrificed for us all. I think I owe her that much.