Dinner nights with my family typically mean I’m in the kitchen helping my mom prepare the dishes. I don’t mind though; as I got older, I’ve grown to actually enjoy this time with my mom.
“Jaemin,” my mom comes over and drops the kimchi in front of me. “Cut this up for me.” I listen to my mom and start cutting the kimchi for her.
Moments later, Haram enters the kitchen with two bags before placing them on the table. I turned around and smiled at her.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Haram said, immediately throwing on an apron and helping my mom strain the rice in the sink. “I had a faculty meeting after school.”
“Were the kids nice to you today?” I teased, walking by her to kiss her on top of her head.
“A little rowdy, but for the most part they were good.” Haram said, washing the rice.
“Are you still teaching 3rd grade?” My mom asked, chiming in.
“Yes,” Haram happily answered. My mom smiled at Haram; she really liked her. My mom and Haram got along well. My mom was very conservative with the people that we brought home. The moment my mom met Haram, they instantly hit it off. I guess that’s a good sign, right?
“So cute,” my mom simply said. “I remember when Jaemin was that little. He used to have so much hair and these big glasses.”
“Eomma,” I said, trying to stop her before she got too explicit with the information. Haram giggled and gently kissed me on the cheek. It made me smile.
…
“Dinner was lovely,” Haram said to my mom. “The garnishes were so tasty, as usual.”
“Thank you, dear,” my mom said, beginning to take some of the plates off of the table. Haram immediately gets up to help her out. I could tell my mom appreciated all of Haram’s help. I watched both of them in the kitchen, cleaning off plates and putting leftovers in containers together. I couldn’t help but smile; Haram seamlessly fits in this house which is something that hasn’t happened before. I begin to imagine life with Haram: a house with a tiny puppy that she carries around with her everywhere. I imagine Haram spending Chuseok with my family and vice versa. I wonder how life without—
“I have to get going,” Haram comes into the dining area and grabs her purse from the back of her chair.
“Already?” I said, watching her put her things together. I see the containers of food that my mom packed up for Haram.
“I do have to be at work by 7 tomorrow morning,” Haram explained. “Two more days and then I’m off work for the weekend.” My mom finally enters the dining area.
“You and Jaemin should spend the weekend here when Mina and Minji come in a couple of weeks,” my mom suggested. “I think it would be great for the women to spend some time together.” I didn’t like the idea, mainly because my sisters were extremely tough when it comes to the women I date. I know this wouldn’t be the case; maybe that’s why I’m freaking out.
“I would love that,” Haram answered for the both of us. I quickly looked at her, wishing she had let me ease into this discussion.
“It’s settled then,” my mom said, walking over to Haram and I. “I will let Jaemin know when we could all do this.” Aigoo. My mom hugged Haram before I have her a kiss goodbye.
“Let me know why you’ve made it home,” I said, hugging Haram tight.
“Of course,” Haram said before leaving the house. She leaves out of the front door and I immediately know where this conversation is now going.
“When are you and Haram going to get married?” My mom immediately asked.
“Eomma,” I whined, cleaning up the rest of the dining room table.
“You are not getting any younger, Jaemin. I would love to see my only son carrying on the Kim name—“
“Eomma, please,” I said, nearly dropping the dishes to the ground. “Haram and I just started dating a couple of months ago. There’s still so much time left until things get to that pace.”
“She’s traditional,” she continued to say. “She values family and education. She was raised in a good family that values the same.” I looked at my mom as she spoke. My mom was protective of her only son and didn’t speak too highly about the women I dated over the years. Haram was different though, and that is what makes me feel so nervous. “She suits you well. I’m glad you met someone back home like her.” I rolled my eyes as I placed the dishes in the sink, turning the water on to clean them. I knew exactly what she meant; my mom never spoke if it didn’t have motive or intention behind it. I understand that my mom wanted me to be with someone close to home and that knew the culture well enough as herself. She never told me this, but I know she was flipping out when I was in America with an American woman.
“Yeah,” I answered back, wanting to change the subject desperately at this point. My mom smiled, placing clean dishes in the cabinet as I washed and dried them. I want to make my mom proud, and I know she just wants to be the son that she raised. But, sometimes I feel like that side of me can’t come back, no matter hard I try. I still slip in English words every now and then in conversations with other Koreans, especially when I can’t remember how to say certain phrases and words in Korean due to being out of practice for some time. So, if me being with a Haram makes her happy, then it shouldn’t be that hard considering that Haram also makes me happy.
But, what if I’m not the traditional Korean man Haram needs me to be? What if I am now too westernized to ever be traditional? What if I don’t want to be traditional?
I look over my mom as her phone rings on the counter. She picks it up when she sees that Mina is calling her. She takes her phone conversation to the other room, leaving me in the kitchen by myself, lost in my thoughts.
If I was traditional, I wouldn’t be overthinking it and if I wanted to be traditional, I wouldn’t be so caught up in the anxiety behind being so.
Letters From Liz. 