to leave a legacy

I was often his voice. Why can't I still be?

There's a story that needs to be told. Stories, I should say. Countless of them. Stories of pain, of loss, of beauty, of revelation, of endurance, of great sorrow and great joy.

I tried blogging about my journey moving to South Korea last year, because I thought family and friends might be interested to hear the challenges, funny experiences, and insights I gain living in a foreign land. I have had many, many stories to share from my life here in South Korea, but I have had trouble writing about them because I haven't really needed a forum to process my journey here. Instead, I have hungered for a place and a community to process my journey of loss and pain. However, I feared nobody would want to read about that journey, so I hardly wrote, or I wrote but didn't share. But I feel there are thousands of stories swarming inside me and I want to voice them.

Because for a long time I was his voice. Why I can't I still be? And his story is not over. Why can't it be told?

My family's journey in many ways was quite private, for a variety of reasons...some personal preference and some logistical due to the intensity of my father's care and the severity of his disease. Now looking back, it was a very lonely journey, as most people's pain can by nature only be understood by the one who feels it, as even those who share it feel it uniquely as their own.

My story is also uniquely mine. Many aspects my family would heartily agree with and deeply resonate with. But much is also unique to my perspective and experience of our journey, my journey. My perspective may be flawed, narrow, and I may be wrong at times as a recount what we experienced, but I can promise I will be honest.

It is a story of unfathomable suffering, heart wrenching loss, disillusionment, and grief... But it is also a story of indescribable perseverance, an unquenchable love, the beauty of a family clinging to faith, and a daughter's love that lives on.

If you want to hear the stories, to be part of this greater story—the legacy of a courageous man, my loving father—then please read on. 




Photo by: WikimediaCommons