farewell table, cooking, dinner
Prologue
Mom was the one who did everything for me. So every moment of my mother was used for others.
a rush of tasks at the moment one opens one’s eyes
After turning the washing machine and cleaning, go grocery shopping and prepare dinner in advance so you can finally leave home.
with a lunch box in hand and not too light a step by step
When she goes to the delivery office she runs with her father, the second act of her day begins. The second act is too long. The place where the hour hand points to is the same place as when you leave the house.
When I come home with my dad after work, my mom prepares a late dinner. This is the last task.
I think my mom forgot about it. He also needs rest.
He seemed to have misunderstood that he was a superwoman who had to live like this in order to live with the lives of all the family members.
I’m a bitch who pretended not to know my mother’s oblivion and illusion.
A girl named Na-ran, who has no shame in remembering things like this, prepares dinner like this only after her mother leaves.
A mother who never skipped dinner preparation, never turned over a baton, and a father who, thanks to it, became vulnerable to the most basic thing in the life of eating-solving. I hated my dad. And now I’m leaving.
For a stable working life, I will leave my family and set up a new home in a strange place.
For 32 years we have gone through a lot and in the process I have created a tarry of complex emotions above love: hatred and resentment, affection and regret.
I hope that the tarot will slowly be released on the parting table.
The first farewell table for you and me
Bacon omelette, fish cake soup, young radish kimchi
A day when blue darkness falls and rain falls beneath it.
With a week to go to work at his new job, unemployed people were intoxicated with the weather and lost their motivation for cooking.
I opened the refrigerator door because I wanted to cook as little food as possible. The fish cake I bought is drooping in the front compartment, asking me to cook for myself. I can’t help it. I chose you for today!
Who would be a good companion to fish cake soup? Stir-fried squid or kimbap would be good, but I can’t even think about doing it and I can see the bacon I bought as pasta ingredients. I think I should make fried rice today.
Oil garlic and green onions, slice bacon and onions, and stir-fry rice. But I feel somewhat empty and sad.
Maybe it’s because there’s no one to cover it up. I’m worried because I’ve never done an omelette before, but I decided to challenge myself for this empty-looking fried rice.
Obviously, I tried to eat less, but things got bigger. Cooking is like life. I always didn’t want to do things, but my life has been a mess for 32 years. Perhaps the gap was troubling you.
It is also painful to see the egg jidan made. My cooking doesn’t taste bad, but it doesn’t look easy. The spoon won’t go away. The sight of the ragged egg soon makes me sullen.
Embarrassed, I took out Yeolmu kimchi that I gave as a side dish from my favorite noodle restaurant Namsu Pocha.
This table seemed to live only with this young radish kimchi guaranteed to taste.
Fortunately, my dad ate for a very long time. It took more than 30 minutes to finish the 10-minute cut at a university restaurant.
Dad tends to finish his meal quickly, as if he doesn’t want to savor it any more if it doesn’t suit his taste.
It’s like a pro. In other words, professional gourmet’s meal time is the score of the day’s cooking.
It’s me. What if I ruin the visual? It’s all good if it’s delicious.
There is no woman who lamented that it was like my life because of the eggs that had been ruined before.
I’m a very light person.
Now I say with a smile, but for a while I spent a painful time thinking that I had ruined my life.
What was needed at that time was the recognition of those close by.
“You can do that. No wonder you’re wandering around like this. It’s hard to be sad. We can do well from now on.”
this sort of obvious and boring admission This was all.
However, such recognition was not as easy as I thought.
Dad blamed me.
“It is a shame of you and me that your business has gone bankrupt, and that you are behaving like this is because you are all beside yourself. There’s no one in the world to help you. Get a hold of yourself and walk fast. You’re still short.”
When people are struggling and wandering, there are people who try to awaken with bitter sounds.
I think it is a lack of understanding of human beings.
Will I be able to understand the heart of bitter sounds for me by people who are frustrated and have wandered on other paths?
It’s not just the wandering man. Not everyone takes one surface message of a word to me as the core.
the speaker’s sentiment, the predicated idea of the word
That’s the point the listener feels.
So compassionate.
I’m not a psychopath, it’s hard enough.
It is the beginning of the confirmation process.
With confirmation from someone who recognizes me, we can shake off our own anxiety.
Only then can I take a step further, and find a way for me to move on.
There were many people who accepted my existence as it was and I was able to stand on my way again thanks to them.
After a long walk along the road, Dad admitted me. I have identified many bad things around me.
Just like the ugly omelette was on the spoon right away, I’ll admit it quickly.
It wasn’t my fault.
on the one hand
Wouldn’t it be too much for my dad to hug everything like that? Because we’re all deficient.
Thinking about it makes me feel sour.