I can feel it happening now, though it must have been going on for months already. There is a Korean child ~ a ghost, really ~ who is suddenly alive and growing rapidly into a woman. And there is an American woman ~ who was created from nothing and nowhere ~ who is transforming into a child. The two are racing together and toward each other. And when they collide, what will be the result that survives?

Flights heading so far west until they become East. Days until I meet the home and family I lost.  Returning with the knowledge that my omma did not, in fact, love me enough to give me up to a better life. Bearing the knowledge that she loved me enough to have preferred we had starved in the streets together. Now that is the kind of love I can understand ~ a love that fights and never gives up. No matter what she turns out to be like, I will love this mother for never completely letting go. For holding on long enough to find me. 

Awhile back, my Korean family found me

No, I didn't find them. I wasn't searching for them ~ they were searching for me.

They were searching.

For me.

For 34 years.

The story of how we got separated is tragic and fucked up. It makes me feel a distant sense of anger and a good deal of sadness. I won't tell our private story, but suffice to say it was basically internationally sanctioned kidnapping.

It makes me feel a little happy to know I was always loved & wanted, and that they never have up hope. It's amazing how that scrap of knowledge can hold up a person's soul.

If you haven't experienced this circumstance, there's no way to explain how it feels. I will not try. I could say I feel this or I feel that, but they're just words. Normally I'm pretty good with words, but for this they seem so powerless.