Ji-sun: Do you remember my sister?

By Jae-Ha Kim
Substack
Sept. 2, 2014

Ji-sun (지선), do you remember my sister?

She was the bright, artistic, shy little girl who sat next to you in school every day in Seoul. You both were about seven years old.

My sister always had a very serious look on her face. When she went out in public with our beautiful mother and handsome father, people would say, “Oh, she must look like one of her grandparents…” Meaning that she wasn’t pretty enough to be the child of such a good-looking couple.

Maybe that’s why you stole her pencils every day.

Maybe you mistook her being quiet and polite as being weak and stupid.

Maybe you thought that because you were cute, you were entitled to have whatever you wanted.

Did you see my mother waiting at the doorway that morning, watching you take my sister’s school supplies yet again? How did you feel when my well-heeled mother confronted you, as a baby peeked over her back, smiling at her sister. When you hung your head in embarrassment as my mother yelled at you in front of the entire class, did you blink back tears or think of ways to plot your revenge?

My mother, who holds educators in high esteem, then gave the teacher a verbal thrashing for letting this go on every day.

Ji-sun, my mother’s memory isn’t what it used to be. She’s still sharper than most people her age, but she forgets things every now and again.

She has never forgotten your name, though.

As for my sister, who was never considered the “cute” one growing up, she is successful, ageless and beautiful.  I doubt she remembers you.

© 2014 JAE-HA KIM | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED