The Fourth Day

Lughnasa and the Korea Moon

Thursday gratefuls: Ruth and Gabe. Georgetown Loop Railroad. Appa and Umma. Dongoon. Min Yun. Her husband. Their daughter. Seoah’s brother. My son and Seoah. A family knitting itself together. Slowly. Slowly. Beau Jo’s pizza. Swimming. Hawai’i. Shadow, too many people, too many changes.

front: Dongoon, his sister, Min Yun, Back: l-r Seoah’s brother, Seoah, my son, me, Min Yun’s husband, Appa, Umma at my house

Sparks of Joy and Awe: Blended families

Year Kavannah: Wu Wei

Week Kavannah: Ahavah. Love.

Tarot: Six of Stones, Exploitation*

One brief shining: A young Korean boy with round wire glasses talking about how humans got bigger brains, a book in Korean with an English title, Origin Stories, on the table between us after the pizza and gyros had been put away, his father stroking his hair.

 

The Jangs:

The gentle, circuitous creation of an Asian American family made up of many disparate persons, places, and experiences.

At first I didn’t understand the Tarot cards I’d been drawing this week.

Perhaps I would have seen this anyway, but possibly not. These cards and this week have opened my eyes to an unusual, slow motion event that has been building ever since Mark and Mary set off for parts unknown over thirty years ago.

Then, Raeone and I adopted my son, a Bengali. Who experienced 9/11 as a freshman in college and shifted his focus from pre-med to a future in the military, defending the country that had given him so much. (his words)

As a result of Mary’s living in Singapore and my desire to see Angkor Wat, resourced by an inheritance from my father, I made my second trip to Asia in 2004. My son, Kate, and I visited Beijing in 1999.

In his Air Force career he took a two year deployment to Korea (do you see an Asian pivot slowly turning our lives?). During his time there he met and married Seoah Jang. They will celebrate their 10th wedding anniversary next year.

I know. But I’m getting there. Kate and I went to my son and Seoah’s wedding in Gwangju. 2016. I officiated. That was the first time I met the Jangs, going to their home in the small village of Okgwa where Seoah grew up. Slowly. Kate and I went on to Singapore after the wedding.

Seoah got stuck here for four months during Covid, unable to return to Singapore where my son had been chosen to attend the Singapore War college. That cemented Kate and mine’s relationship with Seoah as their year in Singapore cemented their relationship with my sister, Mary.

After Kate died, I returned to Korea for five weeks in 2023. I got to know the Jangs again, revisited Okgwa during the fall festival.

Ruth met the Jangs this year in May when she went to Korea to attend my son’s transition to command. Now, only two months later, they’re all here in Conifer.

Slowly. They want to learn English so they can talk to me. I want to see them more because I enjoy their comfort, their warmth, their sense of family.

Seoah wants Ruth and Gabe to consider Dongoon and his sister as cousins. Apparently a primary goal of this trip for Min Yun was for Dongoon and I to talk. Not sure why. Not sure it matters.

The effect has been to lay down, to paraphrase Lincoln, more mystic cords of memory between the United States elements of this widely dispersed family and its Korean members.

We have the chance to become a true international, interracial family. One I want to devote time and resources to nurturing. Seems like a worthy final push before the Hawai’ian sunset.

The left Reverend Doctor Israel Herme Harari

 

 

 

 

 

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