A memory with my mom
One of the days in late fall in Korea, the air was crisp but warm, that day was filled with vivid colors of the autumn leaves, yellow and red, fading away after letting go a yearlong life. My mom and I walked together, rode a bike together, and we laughed together. My mom bumped into trees, curbs, and light polls, falling off a bike. My mom grumbled that I don’t hold her hands or walk with her arm in arm. We talked on the phone a few days ago thinking of this day. Four years ago today. I miss her. So much.