Yeoul. I think of you as my own daughter. I was there when you were born. You were born prematurely, and it was a difficult delivery. When you were an infant, I took care of you; when you cried, I comforted you. You were a lovely little crybaby. Despite this past and our fateful connection, I didn’t actively look for you until you arrived at the hospital. Even then I didn’t immediately recognize you. I’m sorry. You’ve grown up strong and beautiful, perhaps more so than people whose parents looked after them. I believe that some sort of Presence has been looking out for you. I don’t know much about the Mystery and all that, but your mother always talks about the power of prayer.

Your mother and I were best friends in middle and high school. Your mother was the prettiest and smartest girl in the town of Masan. On the street passersby would turn to stare at her, that’s how pretty she was. It’s all in the past, I suppose. I went to college in Seoul, but your family was financially struggling, so your mother couldn’t. My parents offered to lend some money to your family for the tuition, but your grandfather didn’t allow her to take the offer, so she stayed in the town, took care of the family. Not long after, your grandfather didn’t come back after sailing out into the ocean. I don’t believe that your mother’s life was held back by her father or husband. She said she was happy, happier than most people. She told me she loved her life. I haven’t seen her since Christmas two years ago, but I’d like to think that everything is going well for her. No news is good news. My best friend, your mother, is a proud woman and she never reaches out first. Other than how distant she can get, your mother has a perfect personality. Not having been in touch with her, I haven’t gotten around to telling her that I coincidentally and miraculously met you, or about your hospitalization, or your relationship with my son. I’m curious how she’d react, but I’m not sure it’s my place to be the first one to tell her.

I wanted to tell you all this in person, but it’s hard to talk about it, so I wrote you a letter. Sorry about the smudges on the letter. I’m feeling a little emotional. I hope you understand how I feel. I’m including your mother’s address and I hope you two can catch up. I love you.

Busan, Yeongdo District, Sinsun, San 58-4. Gang Jinae.

—1988 March 5th, Inja Kim.