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Heart Memories

19 Feb

The heart remembers what the mind forgets. I firmly believe that now and I didn’t believe it before. I thought that emotions couldn’t help you remember, but only could trigger memories.

Since as I’m writing this I’m in the middle of going to Korea. I’ve been remembering the love of my parents–all of them. I’ve been keeping Appa close to my heart. I’ve forgiven Eomma, because I can’t do less. I’ve been thinking of the good and the bad, but how that in the end they still are family, no matter what language they speak.

And then I fell asleep. In a dream I heard a voice say, “Your birth parents are outside.” It was some kind of reward, I felt. And I see them there. The background is blown out like it was increased by one hundred fifty percent in Photoshop. I see a dirt road–dirt roads fill my memories and dreams even though I know this is probably false. And both of them are standing there. Appa is in front of me to my right and Eomma is to my left. At the beginning they are dressed weirdly, boots and things, but at the end they aren’t. I can see a white blouse on Eomma at the end. Appa says something like, “Thank you very much…” in words so clear I can hear it as if it were English. I say, “Thank you” in Korean this time. I hug him, I can feel his form. Eomma says “Thank you.” which sounds like English and I say thank you formally back in Korean. I hug her and the dream ends.

What strikes me about this time over all other times I’ve dreamed of them is that I can clearly see both of their faces. I can see their expressions. Appa has updated in my dream to look like he now does in the photo he gave. He no longer has hair. Eomma looks the same somehow. She’s still pretty.

Though I know it’s not true, some part of me can’t imagine that I am taller than Appa. There is some part that wants to be shorter than him and Eomma. That’s why I am shorter than them in the dream. I know it’s false, but this is why I believe it came from the heart, not my head.

Also all of the entourage that I know will be at the actual meeting of Appa weren’t present. There was no translator, my mom wasn’t present and my brother wasn’t there. At the beginning of the dream I thought of them, but being a dream of the heart, and not my head, I don’t think they were in that part of my heart.

Before I ended and before I woke up with that feeling of longing fulfilled, I had a small flash of me standing in between them looking up at them both. Perhaps it goes back to a time when we were happy, because I was short in the flash. I was holding both of their hands. My brother was also absent in this flash.

Where I couldn’t get past the chalkboard because I was convincing my head to dream of them, it was my heart and my feelings that remembered.

I know it’s weak, but I cling onto these dreams. But I firmly believe I could not wish for them to be outside the door like if I wished on a shooting star, on dandelion seeds blowing in the wind, or even if I found a magical lamp. I want to earn this right. This is something too important to merely wish for. I want to work hard for it and have a story to tell. Because while the heart can remember, wishes can still vanish like dreams.

 
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