할머니

By Kathleen Kim ’23

할머니,

I have a confession to make.

It’s getting harder to remember

you

Your face,

Your graying curls,

The warmth in your eyes

But one thing I cannot forget is

your voice.

Your voice,

That I heard through

crackles of a telephone wire

Thousands and thousands

of miles away

every week for years.

Your voice,

That so affectionately called me

에기,이쁜이,

수연이,

Words I never understood

the meaning to

until after you left.

I found a second home in

your voice

Walls built up by bricks,

layered in love

A roof strung up by straw,

woven with warmth

I cried when my mother told me

That this home fell down

That no more were you

Thousands and thousands

Of miles away

But simply gone

And that I could no longer

Hear your voice

At the end of the

other line.

할머니, I miss you.

It took me years to rebuild

that home

Brick by brick

Straw by straw

And now the memory of you

Still keeps me warm

During my visits home.

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