Sunday, April 6, 2014
Dear Gareth,
I'm back at Bren's apartment in Hadong after a long and good day, and I
wanted to post about it to friends back home, but it only seems fitting
to write directly to you. True, the words will be read by them and not
you, but here I am anyway, beginning with "Dear Gareth."
Maybe it's because this is where we met. Maybe it's because you considered this small town
your true home in Korea. Maybe it's because we spent so much time here
that everywhere I look I see us. I see you. You are everywhere here.
I arrived last night when it was dark, so I could have almost been
arriving in any town. It wasn't until the sun came up and I stepped foot
outside of the apartment that I was reminded of where I was. Remember
that feeling of "coming home" that you talked about when coming here? I
had that today. My feet knew the sidewalks beneath them. I was comforted
by things familiar.
I met with your dear sister Soon today
for lunch. She picked me up at Bren's (he's living in Hadong now, near
where Renita lived) and we went to a tiny place off the main market
street- behind where we used to go to get samgyeopsal. We sat and ate
bibimbap (you would have loved it) and talked about all kinds of things-
wanting to take naps, hiking, my new job, dermatology, Sheldon getting
money taken from his back account. I couldn't finish my food and when I
left an older man one table over asked me in Korean if I didn't find it
delicious. He noticed I had not eaten all of it. This would have pissed
you off royally, and I kind of giggled about that.
After lunch
we went to the tea house on Full Mart street, the one that usually has
the white christmas lights and is on the street going up to the back
entrance of Hadong Park. Soon had jujube tea and I had maesil cha. Soon
remembered that this was the first place she took you and pointed out
where the two of you sat. It struck me as a place that you would have
loved returning to, and I felt sad that we didn't spend time there. I
felt the waves coming on, but this is one of the few times I tried to
stop them. I pushed it back and stopped them. I didn't want Soon to be
upset by my tears and I did this for her, your sister who you loved.
I explained to Soon that I talk to you all of the time. I said I'd been
asking you at night to please let me feel you near me. To please visit
me in my dreams. I said I'd been distressed that this hadn't happened.
Then I told her of my dream a few nights ago when I saw you standing
outside of your apartment in Gyeongju. I was in my car approaching you
and you were standing there. You didn't see me, but I saw you, and I was
SO excited. "It's HIM! It's really HIM! It's not just someone who looks
like him!" I couldn't believe it, and I was thrilled. Then I woke up.
It was a little after 4 in the morning.
I asked Soon if she
ever talked to her husband or wanted to see him in her dreams. "I don't
want it," she said. "We have a way of thinking in Korea," she explained.
"If you think about the person after they die- if you think about them
and talk to them and see them in your dreams, they cannot go..." I
clarified a bit with questions. Thinking of the person and keeping them
connected here keeps them from being at peace- from moving on to where
they're going. It made sense to me. A loving act for me would be to let
you go. Not forget you- but let you go. "I'm not ready," I told Soon.
"I'm not ready to do that, yet," I said. "I know," she replied.
After tea I wanted to go see Yoger Presso brother and sister and tell
them that you were gone. I wasn't looking forward to it, but they would
want to know. I said goodbye to Soon and walked down Full Mart street
(stopping in to get treats for Baby One) and the rounded the corner at
Chinese Brother's restaurant at the entrance to Market Street. Chinese
Brother's scooter wasn't there, but Tattoo Brother was standing outside
and greeted me warmly as I passed. After our hellos I showed him the
translation that Jung Hwa sent me: My boyfriend died on March 4th. He
fell from a building in Gyeongju. 경주애 있는 내 남자친구가 3월 4일 친구 집 건물에서 떨어져서 먼저
하늘나라로 떠났어요.
Chinese Brother was visibly shocked. He shared it
with his sister- the girl who giggled every time we went there to eat
and it drove you crazy. You'll be happy to know she didn't giggle. The
first time I've seen her not do that nervous laughter. Her face was
serious. Shocked. Sad. As we were talking, Chinese Brother drove up on
his scooter, excitedly shouting at me like he does. You loved him. You
noted that his disfigurement with his arm probably caused him to say
"fuck it" to what Korean society said he should be and allowed him to
break away to be the hilarious individual we saw. (Remember that summer
night when we walked past him and his 2 friends on the street and ended
up sitting with them for the longest time?)
"어디가요?" he asked
me. "Where are you going?" Before I could answer, Tattoo Brother told
him about you. He was heartbroken, Gareth. He wanted me to drink shots
with him. Bond with him. I reminded him of my allergy to alcohol and he
insisted a few more times. I declined. I know he wanted to share this
pain of losing you together. To soften it with soju. He finally agreed
to just have the shots for me. We parted ways.
Down the market
street past the pizza place we'd order from on a regular basis. Past the
BYC where we'd browse for crazy socks. The streets were not packed with
vendors as usual and many shops windows were obscured by metal doors
pulled down at closing time. I turned right at the street where Soon's
bank is, knowing I was coming to the spot where we first met. I walked a
few more feet and I stood there, taking in the memory. It felt good. I
remembered everything about that moment. Something happened there, and
we'd talk about that many times in the weeks and months after the fact. I
took a picture of the place. I shared it.
To the left and I
was just a couple of shops from Yoger Presso. I walked in the side door
to an almost empty shop. The table where we normally sat had three woman
enjoying their coffee. The other tables were vacant. "여기요!" I yelled
behind the counter. Yoger Presso sister popped her head around the
corner and I watched a wave of happy come over her face. She reached
across and took my hands. "I miss you!" she said. I didn't want to tell
her. I wanted to hold hands and miss her back and talk only of my new
job and what I had planned here in Hadong.
I told her about you.
She cried. Yoger Presso sister cried for you, Gareth. She came around
the counter and held me tightly and she cried. I cried, too, and I
wanted you there with me in that place where we wrote so many words,
played so many games of rummy, read so many poems, held hands across the
table, made each other laugh, planned weekend trips. I wanted you
there.
Other people started coming in, so I retreated to a
seat and Yoger Presso sister busied herself with making my latte. You
used to stop by there on the way into town and pick up an Americano for
you and a "Bridget latte" for me. You'd also get a little chocolate for
us to share. How many times did I hear the beeping of the door code
being punched in my front door while I waited excitedly on the other
side, only to find you moments later slowly opening that door while
balancing those two coffees and several of your bags?
When it
slowed down Yoger Presso sister sat with me and we looked at photos of
you. Photos of us. Geoje. Namha. Gyeongju. The pension. We looked at
photos and I pointed at them and said, "Here he is happy. Here he is
happy. Here he is happy. I know he was not always happy," (she had seen
you in small states of distress in the coffee shop) "but he had many
happy times."
"Why? He did not like me?" she asked. "No," I
explained. "Sometimes when he was around many people, he could be
angry." I was aware that I was over-simplifying a complicated thing
because of the large gap in our understanding of each other's language,
but there it was. She seemed satisfied, at least, that you had nothing
against her. And you didn't. You just didn't feel as comfortable with
them as I did. That's ok.
I finished my coffee and listened to
the lyrics of the songs playing. "Please release me, let me
gooooooo....." Really, Gareth? Are you having fun with me? I laughed.
This is the place, remember, where we heard the song that reminded me of
my grandma. "I'm trying to release you, babe," I thought. "I'm trying.
Little at a time."
When I left there, I went to see Baby One
outside of my old apartment. You'd be happy to know she's still there,
although her hair has grown out and she looks like some kind of
miniature wooly mammoth. Remember when she was shaved like a lion? Poor
thing. You knew I loved her and you used to like to call me out onto the
balcony of our 8th floor apartment to look down into her yard and see
what she was up to. I sat with her and pet her and gave her a treat and
waited for Bren to meet me.
Bren and I walked up the steep
hill to Hadong Park from the parking lot of Daekyung Apartments. You and
I did this many times. I was remembering walking up there on that
beautiful day with Van and Kori and also on New Years Eve to meet Dave
and So Yeon. Bren had never been there before, so it was nice to take
him. Up and up that long hill with all the steps we went until we
reached the observatory. Here is where you recited "Moon of Mountains"
to me in the first few weeks of our dating. You held me and my knees
went weak and we looked at the moon and you poured your words over me.
It was a moment of rare magic, it was. How lucky am I to have a memory
like that?
We toasted in a new year at this place, you and I.
We stood on those observatory steps, me above you so we became the same
height, and we kissed. We kissed and kissed and lost track of time and
where we were and were surprised by a couple of older Korean men trying
to make their way up the stairs to the observatory. We laughed and held
hands and ran off down the hill.
I showed Bren the giant
swing. You pushed me on it more than once and said my sense of play and
the way I could be an adult but still love the things of a child
delighted you. You said you felt free to do the same with me. I watched
you swing.
I showed Bren the bamboo forest and the canopied
wooden path that made its way through massive bamboo stems, tall and
green. How many times did we walk hand in hand along this path? Do you
remember stopping and sitting on the bench, my head in your lap, and
doing nothing but taking in what was around us? I remember the warmth of
the sun and the warmth of your lap. Your hand rested on my head and
your thumb petted me by barely moving.
Bren and I walked on to
the far end of the park, past the big twisted stick sculpture of the
lady. We climbed on the ropes and sat up there for a while. Why did you
and I never climb on the ropes?
We wound our way back to just
below the observatory and stopped to explore the exercise equipment a
bit. Remember when you asked me to coach you with running and in return
you coached me with pushups? I loved that. And you told me you loved
feeling like you could help me do something better.
We found
what may have been a giant, heavy hula hoop and both gave it a try. It
was ridiculous. And hard. And it made me laugh both to try and watch
Bren give it a go. We took a video and we laughed. Sometimes I feel odd
laughing without you. Can I laugh without you here?
Down we
went and I said I wanted to get a few shots of the river for your mom.
I'm carefully trying to take pictures of the town you love to share with
her. I don't think you ever did. I wish we would have called her
together more often. We did twice, and I loved getting to talk to your
parents. I loved telling them you were a good cook and a good boyfriend
and I loved that they saw you were with someone who loved you and that
you were in love.
At the park I ran in to Mr. Park. You know-
Sunny and Mr. Park? He asked about you and, damn- I hate having to say
it over and over again to people who had no idea, but I told him. I told
him and he was shocked, like we all were. He kept saying it was a
"tragedy" and I thought- Gareth, you have no idea how many people your
loss has affected. I invited Mr. Park and Sunny to join a group of us
for dinner later that night.
At 6:30 I met So Yeon, Soon,
Sunny, Mr. Park, Bren, Bernard, and Jason for dinner at that crazy round
building we'd pass on the way out of Hadong towards Jeondo. We always
said we wanted to go in there, but never did, which is a shame because
they serve the best donkkaseu I've ever had. And there are cats there.
Tons of them. Walking around and doing dumb cat things, and that's
pretty funny.
Here at dinner, right after I finished all I was
able to eat, a wave hit. The first big one since being back here, but
it was big. I don't need to tell you what this type of pain feels like. I
know you've felt it. Oh, my sweet babe, I hate that you did. And I'm so
glad to know you're not feeling that anymore. My feeling of deep pain
will pass. Perhaps yours would not have. How much sadness I carry to
know the last few weeks of your life were saturated in a hurt ignited by
my attempt to protect myself and make you getting help for yourself
possible. How sweet it was in those last days to hold your hand and kiss
your face and both ask for forgiveness and tell you there was nothing
on your end to be forgiven for.
After dinner we went to
norebang and Patrick (the new me) joined us. We sang and we laughed and
we danced and I was lifted from my grief in this common joy among
friends. I thought of you and what you'd sing and how much I loved
watching your intensity while holding the microphone. I thought of how
you and I would sometimes go together- just the two of us- and sing our
hearts out. I thought of singing with your coworkers in Gyeongju and
smiling at Beth or Paige when you were singing, and general
acknowledgment of "There's our Gareth!"
I though of this, but
the thoughts were pleasant. Comforting. They added to my joy. I wondered
if this isn't how thinking of you may be in the future, when the waves
settle down. I hope so.
Back at Bren's now. He's sleeping in
the next room, and I'm sitting on his kitchen floor in the dark, with
only the glow of the computer screen casting any light. Tomorrow I'll
visit my old schools. I'll remember you popping by there to see me. I'll
remember when you delivered a handful of cosmos picked from the side of
the road. I'll remember students making the "Ahhhhhh!" noise when I
introduced you to them as my boyfriend. I'll remember how angry you were
that you never got a chance to visit Yangbo before I left.
I'll visit Hadong, Hoengcheon, then Yangbo, and I'll make my way back,
then, to my new town 3 hours away and towards where you were living. I
will think about the many, many times I made that drive on a Friday
after school to come be with you. We'd talk on the phone on my way there
and I'd tell you when I was close. You'd run around to get everything
ready for me- clean apartment, non-fat milk in the fridge, tonic waters
and fresh lemons, tea on hand. How excited we always were to see each
other after 4 or 5 days away.
I've booked tickets back home
for the summer and I have some pretty great anxiety about it. I feel
like I'm leaving you, which is ridiculous, intellectually speaking, but
emotionally speaking it rings true. I told someone recently that it
feels like I'm connected to you by a single strand of a spider web and
that going home will break it. I imagine it will be another part of the
letting go, but right now I just don't want to. It's a couple of months
before I leave, so I'm guessing I'll be more ready by then. And I do, of
course, want to see everyone back home. I just want to take my illusion
of having you with me.
There it is. An update on the place
you love and the people you love who live here. I didn't see Sheldon
this time around, but will next time, I'm sure. I saw David and Lin and
Youngju last night. And Dave. He was happy and drunk and would have
wrestled you, for sure. It warmed my heart to be in the company of
people who knew you and loved you. Oh! And Park Gwang Hee. He was there
last night, of course. He is terribly saddened that you're gone. You
know what a big fan he was of you and I together. You'd be happy to know
how kind he was to me last night.
People are stepping in and
doing everything you'd want done for me, babe. I'm not lonely. I've got
people to hold me when I'm crying and people to laugh with me when I'm
feeling like doing that. I've got an incredible amount of people loving
me and propping me up and telling me that I can do this (just like you'd
say) and that this will pass. Reneta Daniels even popped out of Grazie
the other night and returned with a lemon tonic, in a glass, with a
lemon wedge in it because I had told her how you always made certain I
had a suitable drink when out in a place where people were drinking
alcohol. They're watching out for me, babe. People you know are loving
on me like you would if you were here.
This is perhaps the
longest letter I've ever written anyone. And I have more to say, but
it's past 1a.m. and I'm tired. I want to curl up with Deputy Snuggle and
your pillow with your t-shirt on it and let my mind comb over the
events of the day.
I miss you. I miss your voice. I miss your
warm body. I miss your spirit. Tonight I will release you as much as I
can, and I ask for forgiveness where I am holding on tightly.
With more love that I ever thought it possible to give,
Your babe,
Your sweetheart,
Your "love person"
Bridget
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