A widower groping his way

No matter how hard I try to deny that, a moment will come that I realize this is the only kind of life I have. No matter how strongly and loudly I say "My life sucks.", this is all I have. She does not come back. I can see her face only through photos. I cannot hug and touch her anymore in this life. I grow older every single day. I become an old man. If I don't behave, I will also become a dirty old man. The movie title "There is no country for the old" rings so true. The misery I feel stems from the simple fact that I think I am still young when it is not true at all. I will turn 50 next year. From that age, death can fall upon me anytime soon. I might fall sick, I might die of any terminal disease, and very possibly, I might live but will feel as if I am dead already. I may feel, at least, better if I accept my life as it is. A widower's life. A grain of sand in the middle of a hourglass that can break anytime. When I was in the middle of fight a

Since I found out my wife had a terminal brain cancer in May 2009, I cried four times. Once with my mother and once with my father. It is not like I am close to my parents. Maybe it is because of instinct. Third time I cried was on my way home in the bus after the funeral. I was watching my wife's picture in the frame that I held. Suddenly, tears dropped from my eyes. The last time I cried was one day after funeral. I was home alone and watching text message my wife sent to me on our wedding anniversary in the year 2010. At the deathbed of my wife, I did not cry. During the funeral, I did not cry. Even the four times I cried, each of them was not longer than 5 minutes. I think less than 5 minutes is not enough to flush away what is inside of me. Something must be stuck inside of me. It must have been there for a long time, maybe it has been there for the last 5 years all along. If I could cry my heart out, I might feel better and have a kind of closure. This emotional constipati

Body cannot tolerate the smoking anymore. Mind is empty. Life is empty. The future looks dark. Hope for anything good is gone. Body is extremely tired. Mind is numb. I want to escape this reality. I want to forget my body and mind. I wish I have never existed from the beginning. It is too cold winter. I want to go where there is no winter. A tropical island where I can sleep in the hammock and watch young and healthy girls swimming in the crystal clear beach. I wish everything that ever happened to me was a nightmare from which I can wake up and smile. Smile big. I need to do something to change my life or I need to stop doing something to change my life. Or I should just dump the idea of having to do something to change my life. Or I should just stop wanting to change my life.

People talk about their life, their job, their problems and so on. I listened to them but in my mind say, "so what?" I act as if I care about this ordinary life. I talk and laugh as if the feeling of everything surreal I had when my wife died is now gone. But I know deep inside that I still don't think this thing called life is a serious matter that I should care about. My wife's death broke the firm ground I used to stand on.  I know that my life and everything in it can turn into a vapor in a wink. Everything is ephemeral. People get married. They plan a vacation. They buy and decorate a Christmas tree.  They wonder where they will see the new year's sunrise. I have two opposite feelings at the same time for the people. I envy them because they are still in the cozy ordinary life where nothing dreadful happens. But I also have a devilish thought that their seemingly firm ground can collapse in a moment. I read Camus and Sartre when I was in my 20s. Most of

You watch a horror movie and the night is deep. You smoke a cigarette. You think you should stop smoking because eventually you will face the consequence of your action.  You drink a glass of wine. You think about an American widower who always writes great prose about his life on his blog. He is wise and calm. He is full of wisdom that only a wise widower can have. You think you are one messed-up widower. You think the reason you keep smoking is that you find nothing important, nothing to strive for in this life. You just want to spend the time while thinking about nothing. The best way to waste time is to smoke.   You have a very ominous feeling that you will smoke again when you finish the wine. The only thing that lends a bright light to your life is music of Mozart. Even when your wife is dead and cannot keep company for you, Mozart is still there. You think the last thing on your mind when you die will be music of Mozart.  When you were going through unhappy adolescence,

The world has become a strange place. In the past, five years ago, I was different. But I don't remember how I was different then. Something changed. I think it is all because of absence of my wife. The world was simple and familiar. I can't find the trace of the world in which I used to live in my current life. I am becoming something different. I am becoming empty and hollow. How different will I become in the future? I do not know.

Tired with smoking and purposeless life. No purpose. No meaning. No joy. Just broken body and lonely soul. That's me.

이 세상에 얼마나 더 있어야 하는가? 나는 알지 못한다. 보장된 것은 아무 것도 없다. 희선은 예상하지 못한 죽음을 당했다. 가족 거의 전부가 세상을 떠났다. 나는 언제 죽을까? 내가 예상하지 못한 시간에 죽음은 나에게 올 것이다. 희선에게 일어난 것처럼.