Here’s an excerpt from the book I thought I would share with all of you.
Foreword: Just like yesterday, there are no changes from day to day. I truly believe that every day life is a miracle. To me, Chaerin and Harin’s existence is the greatest gift.
Subject: 14-year-old Paris
Chaerin went to study in France for a month. The day before she left the whole family could not sleep: Chaerin with so much anticipation on this new world, while Harin stayed by her sister’s bed feeling sad because she had to let her sister go, and my wife packing Chaerin’s suitcases and repeatedly packing what her daughter needed. Although for me, her leaving for Paris was not a big deal, I too spent the evening with a heavy heart. My heart felt like ice trickling down my chest.
On the morning of her departure, Chaerin stepped out of the house and picked up the heavy suitcases with ease. Chaerin bowed and said goodbye and she gallantly rode down the elevator without looking back. The morning farewell which came in heavy ended easily just like that with Harin and I going back to start our day with our daily routine again.
Our house was quiet after we finished our routine that day. We went to bed early, my wife and I talked about Chaerin who was probably still on the plane. While we were talking, Harin came to our room because she was scared of sleeping alone. We then didn’t have any choice but to share the small bed among three people. This didn’t make us sleep so well. Primarily because we missed Chaerin, knowing how big a part she is to us. Although we feel like she was still just a young girl it seemed that she had grown up in a day. I tossed and turned in bed thinking, “Will it be the same feeling when I give my daughter away in marriage?”
A few days later I got a call from Chaerin. I was worried. “Dad, it’s not fun!” she answered. These words came out from her. “I expected as much,” that’s what I thought.
“Paris is dirty, cold, and the subway stinks. I want to go home.” I wanted to see Chaerin even more when she told me what I wanted to hear. After I hung up the phone I was more settled and calmed down (meaning it eased his worries). I told my wife the phone conversation I had with Chaerin and my wife just smiled.
As I laid down to sleep, suddenly I missed the urine stench subways. I missed the days in Paris. There was an order even in the way cigarette butts and rubbish were scattered; where the people, though they may not have much, were living free. The cobblestone paths that made driving cars exercise, classical music that you could listen to in the subways, Parisians who prefer to raise dogs that are as big as cows, the bleak cold of the winter, Parisians who stood at the bar and drank beer early in the morning, the crystalline Paris sky supporting the ground, the air at the break of dawn and the quietness of Paris. I missed the house we lived in. Sometimes I would take walks with Chaerin in the stroller and at that time I didn’t know the meaning of “the urine smell in the subway.”
Someday, I know she will miss the Paris that the then 14-year-old girl did not find that interesting and this nostalgia will press her to pack her suitcases once more. She will leave Paris missing the stench of its subway and she too will be longing for Paris and the comfort that the stinky smell of the subway brings. As I thought of this I slipped into a peaceful slumber.
With these book, Professor Lee really shows his love for his daughters. No doubt he’s a loving father.
Source: To play well with the laws of physics
Taken from: clbaddestfemale.wordpress.com