Memory Lane Monday

Memory Lane Monday is a way for me to reminisce about memories from my childhood even if I can't remember what I had for breakfast this morning.

I think this trip down memory lane is going to be bits and pieces of my memories of my Korean grandfather who lived with us off and on over the years that he was in America.

I don't remember exactly when my grandfather came to live with us; he just did.  I do know that we lived in St. Cloud and we lived in the apartments that were behind the high school.  (My mom chose this area because her sister's in-laws lived close by and they would babysit me from time to time.)  We lived in a two bedroom apartment on the ground floor which is always a good thing because I was not good with stairs.

I remember that my grandfather would wake me up every morning to go to school...even on Saturday.  He would say "Critty, school".  (It took everyone, including my mother, a long time to pronounce my name correctly.)  I had to call my mom when she worked on Saturdays to help explain to him that it was the weekend and there was no school.

I remember that my grandfather ate a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches A: because that's the only thing he knew how to ask for in English and B: that's the only thing I knew how to make...I was only in elementary school for crying out loud! 

I remember that when we moved to Kissimmee, we lived in a three bedroom house.  It was me, my mom, my grandfather and my mom's only brother.  (Eventually two of my mom's sisters came to live with us, but that is for another day.)  Somehow my dad came to live with us sporadically in this house and there was a lot of fighting between him, my grandfather and my uncle.  My mom was ever in the middle trying to diffuse the volatile situation.

I remember that my grandfather loved old black and white television shows and movies even though he didn't understand anything that was going on.  I'm sure he made up his own stories to go along with the pictures he was seeing on the screen.

I remember that before my aunts came to live with us, my uncle decided to move to California and he took my grandfather with him.  I was probably 6 or 7 at the time.

I remember that it was many years before he came to live with us again.  I was in college so there was plenty of room in that big house of ours.  He fished a lot, someone would drop him off at the lake in the morning and return late in the afternoon to pick him up.  He never really caught anything, but he loved it.  I remember we had to find night crawlers for him to use as bait.  He was too slow to catch them himself, those suckers are FAST, so all the girls had to do it for him.  On days he didn't go fishing, he would stay downstairs to watch TV.  As soon as my dad would come home, he would run upstairs only to come down for dinner.  My mom always questioned him about this, but he never gave her an explanation.  He terrorized my brother with a cicada.  He fought a lot with my oldest aunt who had a lot of anger towards him because of the life she was forced to live in Korea.  My mom is forever grateful for the time she got to spend with him because she learned a lot about his life before he was a father.  (Like the when he fled to Japan during a time of conflict and lived with a lady and pretended to be Japanese.)

I remember feeling sorry for my youngest aunt who tried to have a relationship with him, but because she didn't speak Korean anymore couldn't even communicate with him.  (She is only three years older than me and lost her language because she wasn't allowed to speak Korean in the house.  My uncle, who she was living with, didn't want her to fall behind in school.)

I remember that he was very unhappy living with us in Indiana because he didn't have any friends there.  Not much of a Korea population in the rinky dink town we lived in.  I guess fishing, old black and white movies and the occasional Korea movie from the Korean store in Indianapolis can only keep a person occupied for so long.  He went back to California to live with my uncle.  He met a woman there who took what little money he had left, but at least he was happy with her.

I remember he died a few years after he returned to California.  I don't remember how old he was, but I think he was in his 90's.  It is one of the few times that all the siblings were in the same place at the same time.  They buried him somewhere in LA.

I remember all the time I got to spend with him and all his little quirks. 

Mostly I remember that I miss having him around.