#aletternotsent

A Letter Not Sent

It’s been almost two months ever since I came here. I intentionally get myself busy with doing a lot of work, not to think of too many things at once that distract the center of myself at the same time.

The most distracting ones are surely my hubby, my little one and my dad, people I loved the most, love the most, and will love the most.

So I started tutoring, I had a great chance to teach a student who had lived in China for more than 10 years. I kind of missing teaching children as well as my family more.

If I get myself super busy, I can jump into REM right after lying down on my bed without thinking too much.

Then I came to realize it’s not a wise thing to do. I used to talk on the phone to my dad, sometimes it lasted for more than an hour. He solely listened to my problem, concerns, possible solutions then gave me some feedback based on his perspective and knowledge, but he never pushed me to choose a direction he wanted. He let me choose what I wanted to do after listening to his ones.

I did the same thing to my hubby every time he had some struggles. Every time he was dealing with some difficult matters, he used to ask me for help, I just listened, then gave him possible solutions, then let him decide.

Then, since my hubby gets exhausted playing with my little one (she is super duper energetic) he would fall asleep like a zombie quite occasionally. So I’ve decided writing any stories with my dad that I truly miss during my whole life. I have tremendous stories and episodes, black comedies with my dad.

Younger me was like an adventurous and super independent person. I did anything by myself and didn’t ask for help that much. I thought it was wise not to ask questions.

Much younger Rachel was a curious cat. I was the one who kept asking millions of questions to my parents, however, no matter how many questions I asked my parents, my dad, and mom had always sought a pleasant ping-pong like conversation, they had never let me feel disappointed in terms of asking questions. Later on, from my age of 8, my dad used to take me to his lab, and I played with semiconductor circuits while my dad was working with his co-workers even during the weekend. He used to give me legos or a whole bunch of electric circuits for me to assemble and dissemble alongside whatever books I loved reading in his lab. I could even ask questions to his co-workers, now I know how bad I was in his lab. I also feel thankful many of his co-workers seemed to love (even if they didn’t) having the various random conversation with a little girl.

My dad was the one who always respected my solutions and self decision-making. He always gave me construct but honest feedback. He told me my strengths, weaknesses, and things to work on. He treated me as his team member. However, he had never confined any of my answer as the wrong one. He always started his conversation in this way, like “Hey, it’s a good approach, and I understand you can think of it in that way.” After listening to my whole probable solutions or suggestions, he would say, “You’ve got a great point, but there may be millions of other thoughts and ideas you can run into. Let me put it this way.” Then he gave some advice and feedback on his experience and knowledge, then he gave me another assignment.

“You should briefly tell me 3 more different perspectives until the end of this week.”

Then I had to read three or four pieces or different newspaper editorials (he had usually subscribed 3 newspaper which holds three different points of view, conservative, radical, and mid-radical ones. After getting used to reading the three editorials, including English newspaper, I had to give a short presentation to my dad but in a very casual way, like “A’s main point was this, B’s main point was that, and C’s perspective is as follows. I personally think all three is wrong…..” or I sometimes supported one of the three (or more than that) with my own perspective and point of view.

He strongly believed that I would work with people from all over the countries, and said, “You should not only understand whatever is happening around the world in many fields but also comprehend and interpret different perspectives on the same matter, after building those perspectives, you should build up your own paradigm, but your paradigm can be attacked or modified, even so, you should be flexible enough to share, arrange, and modify your ideas if others think you’re wrong. It doesn’t mean that you accept the way it is. You might be wrong, or they might be wrong, or both of you guys are right, or both of you guys are wrong. The most important thing is to have a stem in your brain and heart, but it has to be flexible to build up more branches if the new information and perspective is found. That’s what science is. It’s not the law. It’s the consensus what majority of people believe it is right, but if it’s wrong, people should head toward the way which is more right with facts, supports, evidence, as well as insight. If not, your world collapses even theirs, but the funny things are sometimes no parties are affected.

He also used to say, “You should remember the two things. Don’t let others hurt you, at the same time, let others hurt you. You can put it in this way as well, your paradigm should be flexible enough to change the status as a stem cell, a host, and a mitochondrion or whatever else that any better ideas can linger on, or help them to evolve.”

All the words what my dad once said to me are still as vivid and clear as yesterday, I had a conversation like above almost every single day with my dad.

I have thought I was blessed to have parents like my mom and dad. So losing my dad was like the end of the world. I kind of hypnotising myself that my dad is always with me, and back in Korea, while driving back home from work, I used to drive for an hour from the west end of Seoul to east end of Seoul for more than 2 years, and if my hubby, sis, mom, or friends were busy with anything, I used to call my invisible dad and talked to him about whatever good things or bad things I had. It’s kind of self-healing ritual I used to have.

But somehow, after working in various companies and academies, I kind of realized it’s not recommended asking too many questions (if you work in a Korean company) doing my own thing is thought to be a virtue or anything.

Then a long time after, after reaching 30s, I worked with more and more people from many different companies and places, in various field, and came to realize if you don’t know how to deal with, it’s better to ask people who are in charge of. It’s better than making mistakes, even if people think you are bothersome.

Figuring out curiosity and questions by myself gives more accomplishment, that’s for sure, however, if you can ask help, get help, and give help to others at the same time, that inter-mutual working productivity goes way much better. (even if it’s not always the same)

I still think I learn till I die. I learned the world from the book, from traveling from my parents, and relatives, (some of my relatives are just like my dad) from my friends, from my colleagues, from my students, from my boss, from my seniors, from my juniors, from the quiet time only with myself, from every single step and moment I take.

A barking dog can give me a lesson, a crawling baby can give me a lesson, a student can give me the much bigger lesson. a friend can give me a lesson, an uncle can give me a lesson, a floating stream can give me a lesson, a falling leaf can give me a lesson, a raindrop can give me a lesson, a food can give me a lesson, a single piece of paper can give me a lesson, a pair of ripped jeans can give a lesson, Age, place, and subject don’t matter at all.

Not to mention, I should also admit the one who affected my life a zillion more times is my dad.

I am heading to 40, I only have 4 years to become 40. Even I should face my 60s, 70s, or 80s, I would learn so many things from my potential grandchildren, and community junior as well as much older generations and friends who would survive. (or I could die in a car accident or a natural disaster tomorrow. I always think like that that ever since I was a child that I could die tomorrow.)

I really respect my husband because he listens to others, he analyzes himself, then he modifies his mistakes and weaknesses to be a better person even if he doesn’t have to sometimes. I do that as well. That’s what my dad used to be, I guess it was just like a very natural thing to like him because no matter how long the conversation goes on, it never let me get bored or bothersome, just like the conversation I used to have my dad.

Maybe my late dad knew he would be gone forever until I die, then he brought up a guy whom I can talk to as I did to my dad, he kind of had a gut that he is the one who can solely respect my world, and grow together, so he said to my soon-to-be husband when I first brought him to my house, “Thank you for saving us from Rachel. Now it’s your turn.”

Well, to be honest, I miss those two guys badly now.