All her life, Sunja had heard this sentiment from other women, that they must suffer—suffer as a girl, suffer as a wife, suffer as a mother—die suffering. Go-saeng—the word made her sick. What else was there besides this? She had suffered to create a better life for Noa, and yet it was not enough. Should she have taught her son to suffer the humiliation that she’d drunk like water? In the end, he had refused to suffer the conditions of his birth. Did mothers fail by not telling their sons that suffering would come?
“You’re upset about Noa,” Yangjin said, “I know. He’s all that you ever think about. First it was Koh Hansu, and now it’s Noa. You’re suffering because you wanted that terrible man. A woman can’t make a mistake like that.”
“What else should I have done?” Sunja blurted out, then immediately regretted doing so.
Yangjin shrugged, almost in comic imitation of the woman farmer. “You brought shame on your child by having that man as his father. You caused your own suffering. Noa, that poor boy, came from a bad seed. You’re fortunate that Isak married you. What a blessing that man was. Mozasu came from better blood. That’s why he’s so blessed in his work.”
Sunja covered her mouth using both hands. It was said often that old women talked too much and said useless things, but it seemed like her mother had been storing these specific thoughts in reserve for her. This was like some sort of mean inheritance her mother had been planning to give her. Sunja couldn’t fight her. What was the point?
Yangjin pursed her lips, then inhaled deeply through her nostrils.
“That man was bad.”
“Umma, he brought you here. If he hadn’t brought you—”
“That’s true that he brought me here, but he was still awful. You can’t change that. That poor boy didn’t have a chance,” Yangjin said.
“If Noa didn’t have a chance, then why did I suffer? Why should I have even tried? If I’m so foolish, if I made such unforgivable mistakes, is that your fault?” Sunja asked. “I don’t, I don’t…I won’t blame you.”
Kyunghee looked at Yangjin imploringly, but the old woman seemed oblivious to her silent pleas.
“Sister,” Kyunghee said gently. “May I get you something? To drink?”
“No.” Yangjin turned to Sunja, pointing to Kyunghee. “She’s been better to me than my own family. She cares more about me than you do. You just care about Noa and Mozasu. You only came back when you learned that I was going to die. You don’t care about me. You don’t care about anyone else except your children.” Yangjin bawled.
Kyunghee touched Yangjin’s arm gently.
“Sister, this is not what you mean. Sunja had to take care of Solomon. You know that. You said it yourself so many times. And Mozasu needed his mother’s help after Yumi died,” she said quietly. “Sunja has suffered so much. Especially after Noa—” Kyunghee could barely say Noa’s name. “And you, you have had whatever you needed here, right?” She tried to sound as soothing as possible.
“Yes, yes, you have always done your best for me. I wish Kim Changho could have stayed in Japan. Then he could have married you after your husband died. I worry that after I die who will take care of you. Sunja-ya, you must take care of Kyunghee. She can’t stay here by herself. Aigoo, if only Kim Changho hadn’t rushed off to the North and probably gotten himself killed. Aigoo. The poor man probably died for nothing.”
Kyunghee crumpled visibly.
“Umma, your medicine is making you say crazy things,” Sunja said.
“Kim Changho only went to Korea because he couldn’t marry our Kyunghee, and he couldn’t suffer any more waiting,” Yangjin said, having stopped crying. It was like watching a toddler whose tears could stop at will. “He was much nicer than Yoseb. After his accident, Yoseb was a drunk, but Kim Changho was a real man. He would’ve made our wonderful Kyunghee happy, but he’s dead. Poor Kim Changho. Poor Kyunghee.”
Seeing Kyunghee’s shocked expression, Sunja said firmly, “Umma, you should go to sleep. We’re going to leave you to rest. You must be tired. Come on, let’s go to the back room and finish the knitting,” Sunja said, helping Kyunghee up. At the door, Sunja turned out the light.