Father!
It’s truly been a long time since I’ve called out to you.
Though I’ve always thought I would one day write you a letter of apology and gratitude,
more than thirty years have already passed in hesitation.
Looking back now, the times I shared with you still feel as vivid
as if they happened only yesterday.

It must have been one summer night—
the chorus of frogs and crickets rang out loudly in the dark.
As a little girl, I was riding on your broad back.
You gently swayed side to side, humming a tune—
though I can’t recall what song it was.
You pointed to the stars in the far-off night sky,
teaching me the names of the constellations, one by one.
I remember looking up at those wide, twinkling heavens,
feeling somehow afraid and overwhelmed,
and wrapping my arms more tightly around your neck.
How comforting, how safe it felt to be carried on your back…
Even now, when I gaze up at the night sky,
I miss the warmth of your body from that night.

Father, do you remember?
That day I was making such a fuss around the house—
too scared to pull out my wobbly front tooth,
too miserable to leave it alone.
While my sisters ran about with silk thread,
trying to pull it out for me,
you called my name from behind the door:
“Let’s see… is it really loose?”
I opened my mouth wide and said, “Ah—”
and in a flash, my tooth was out,
pinched between your thumb and forefinger.
The shock! The betrayal! I couldn’t believe you had done it.
But soon, I proudly admired the new permanent tooth
peeking through my gums in the mirror.

Father, even now I know how deeply you loved me.
Do you remember the day before my first school field trip in first grade?
You took me to the best candy shop in Jungang Market
and bought me far more than I ever imagined.
You said,
“Give these to your teacher, and share the rest with your friends.”
We didn’t leave until my bag was so full it couldn’t hold another thing.
My feet felt like they were floating on air.
I still remember how you smiled
watching me show off to the neighborhood kids
as we turned into the alley.

And that rainy day…
Though the morning had started off clear,
the sky suddenly darkened, thunder rolled,
and rain poured down like a waterfall.
As school was ending,
we could hear the buzz of parents outside,
gathered with umbrellas.
I was so worried about how I’d get home—
but then,
through the window,
I saw a tall head peek in.
It was you, Father!
How relieved and overjoyed I was.
Even though streams overflowed and potholes filled with water,
I wasn’t the least bit scared walking home—
as long as I was holding your hand.

Father, just as you loved me so deeply,
I loved you, too.
Do you remember one summer vacation,
you took me to Samgak Mountain for a prayer retreat?
It was supposed to be a week, I think.
I proudly held your hand
as we joined the crowd heading up the mountain.
The hills were packed with people.
Even in the hot, intense worship
under the straw mat tents,
I somehow slept so peacefully.
But you had to return home the very next day.
Your body couldn’t handle staying for the full week.
As I listened to your labored breath,
a strange sadness and fear began to creep in.
It felt like you might go somewhere far away and never return.
And that fear came true—
one early winter morning,
without a word, you left us forever.
That morning, I was devastated.
The pain was unbearable.

Father, we know how deeply you loved our mother and us.
Even when your illness worsened and you couldn’t stand properly,
I saw you gather beggars from the streets,
cook for them,
and give away your own clothing.
One bitterly cold winter night,
you brought home a beggar boy my age.
You washed him with your own hands
and dressed him in my cherished corduroy pants.
I was so upset.
And during the months he stayed with us,
I remember how much I resented that boy.
Please forgive me for that.
But Father,
your eleven years of love
opened the door for me
to know and feel the eternal love of our Father in Heaven.
Like the nickname you gave me—Mulleongi (Softy)—
I’ve always been timid and a crybaby.
But even so,
it is such a blessing and a gift
that I can walk through this world
by holding onto our Heavenly Father’s hand.

Father,
Thank you.
Though I never forgot you,
my heart had only been full of thoughts, not actions.
Father,
I still love you—
even now.