So after a month of luxuriating in and engorging myself upon American-style laziness (mostly watching the Tennis Channel and eating up the mountains of food my mom cooked up everyday), I’m back in Korea with its patches of snow and ice on the ground. I must say, I wasn’t all that crazy about coming back. The month passed by in a flash, and it seemed like I had barely overcome my jetlag and the time difference before it was time to get back on a plane.
It’s such a strange duality for me, my Korean and American lives. When I go to the U.S., my life in Korea seems to melt away like it was all just a dream, and now that I’m back, it’s my life in America that seems to slowly dissipate.
And above all, there is my family. My wonderful, eccentric, wildly dysfunctional family with all our eccentrities and incompatibilities. So loving and so maddening at once. I will miss them more than I could ever say (or write).
But ultimately, life goes on, and really, feeling sad about not being with my family isn’t going to anything besides making me feel sad. I’ve got things to do, a book to write, a job to get ready for, and ultimately, a life to live. And really, I’d rather live it with a smile and not a frown.