Chapter 2 New life in America

He engaged in automobile repairs, hawking of flowers and snacks, he and his mother fed from hand to mouth. My father began to hear of the American lifestyle, the ease of living and surviving in America, how it is the easiest place to succeed. This motivated him to start making plans of how to make enough money and fly to America. But after struggling for months, he still couldn't make it enough to bear the travel expenses. He approached various of his father's friends and relatives but all were of no help. He picked several jobs a day all in the effort to achieve his quest.

He worked as a hand for an old man in his shop, during the day, in the evening he hawked flowers and snacks at the playgrounds and parks, and at night he worked as a waiter in an hotel. All this went on for a couple of years, yet my father couldn't bear the expenses to fly down here to America. It was painful to encounter such with all the hard work. On a particular night when he was narrating all this to me, and his whole ordeals before I was born, I could clearly remember the emotions he fell when he narrated his strive in coming to America and making a living and to live the American lifestyle. In his narrations at some point he would grin and keep mute at intervals as if he doesn't want me to learn about his ordeals. But then I was only a kid, who understood little. In my later life when I recall such narrations, I grasped and understood much of it. If at all there is one thing I understood from his ordeals in striving to come to America, was that the man is left alone to achieve his aspirations and that none would help at a pressing hour. This lifestyle of hustling round the clock continued for my father. There were many other things which he never told me in his narrations and of course he shouldn't, not even if I were an adult. Though when I recall his shameful atrocious actions he did my sight, and involved me in, I wonder what need there was for him to hide anything from me. Right from Korea, in his college days my father he'd been a pedophile. He lures and harasses young girls. He took advantage of his relatives' young daughters whenever they come visiting, the kids on several occasions complained but my father's parents suspected nothing. This went on until my father became obsessed with this act. While he worked as a waiter in the hotel he saved as much as possible to fulfill his quest. In the course of this, he stole large amount of money from the hotel proprietor's office to pay his travel expenses in coming to America. On the fateful day he carried out this act, he rushed out of the hotel in the cover of the night, and went to pass the night in a nearby town. There he met a high school friend of his, an American Korean who had informed him much about America. This friend of his had mobilized him to make arrangements and move here to the US. On reaching his friends destination, he informed him that he now had the money and that he should help in making arrangements for him to take his flight. Meanwhile the hotel proprietor realizing that money was missing, summoned all the staff with immediate alacrity. In the course of this investigation he realized only one of the staff was missing without any report, that of course was my father. There was no doubt at this point whatsoever that he was the culprit. The proprietor at once checked the staff book for his address. My father together with his mother live beside a large canal, that cuts through most of Seoul, at Jump street. Their house was a simple wooden duplex, with it's outings already worn out. The proprietor quickly alerted the police who at once dropped at my father's residence. But it was only his mother they found. All efforts to get him proved futile. Due to the theft he had committed, he made arrangements quickly to leave Korea for America without even going to see his mother again. His mother lamented what he has done, and worse for her she was left alone without any care. In the next couple of days my father took his flight and arrived here. He did this without the knowledge of his mother, and that was how my father came to live here in the United States. Despite his shortcomings, my father had intentions of bringing down his mother to America, when he settles and makes enough fortune. He had great attachment to his mother, she had always taken his side even when he was wrong. Hence his sudden departure was something she couldn't bear. She suffered depression and panic attacks after the incident. My father on his side had his foremost intention to bring down his mom once he had made enough in America. Little did he cared about the fact that he carried out such an action that could claim the life of his dear mother. Shortly after his arrival, news reached him of the death of his mother from heart failure. On many occasions, my father had told me how attached he was to his mom, how he spent most of his times with his mother, in absence of his father, who was hardly at home during the daytime hours due to his teaching job. In most instances, my father almost broke down, narrating his connection with his mom. He always says, the only thing he ever regretted was leaving his mom without informing her and assuring he would be taking care of her. He had once told me " look Eric, I so much wish my mom, your grandmother was here with us".

As a kid, I had little empathy for all this ordeals, and after all my own mom was alive and was with us, to me that was enough. What intrigues me though was, how comes I was more attached to my father while my father was more attached to his mother. Whenever I think of this, I simply conclude that it was because my father's father was always occupied with work, and had little time to be with his son. This sounded reasonable to me, and I easily accepted that otherwise male children should be attached to their fathers.