-
I moved into a new apartment
-
I’ve been working hard at my blog
-
I’ve been working on my query letter for my memoir
-
I’ve been working to finetune my book even further
-
I signed up for a public speaking course
All of these things are stepping stones on the path to myself… I am learning how to authentically love myself and honor the gifts that have been given to me and the people I love.
I wanted to share the beginning of my memoir with you…
First train ride
Jungmi's umma was very fat and very tired. On the day she came to pick me up, I did not know why she was so fat and so tired. She was so fat because her bones needed protection from her husband's punches, and she was so tired because she did all the work at the Laundromat that they owned. He walked around their business with his hands clasped behind him, feeling important.
For the obviously upper-class customers, he made sure that his wife gave them the finest in customer service. He would make it obvious that he was in charge by ordering her around like an employee or a house servant.
For the customers who appeared poorer or lower class than he, he hurried her to get the work done and talked down to them similar to the way he talked to his wife.
For his drinking and gambling buddies, he was jovial and talkative, and would soon abandon his wife to run the shop while he and his friends would venture out to drink. She never seemed to see the wrong in his laziness nor the wrong in him knocking her around.
On our train ride she kept looking over at me with her tired eyes. She looked apologetically from across our train car, glancing at the handful of candies in my hands that she had given to me when we first got to our seats. Butter Rum was my favorite. I always ate too many, but not this day. I could not eat any of them. Not a single one.
We were moving fast away from the fields that I knew. Nothing was going to be familiar to me anymore. I understood that somehow. All I felt was an abyss of nothing.
In the country they hang pigs upside down by their hind hoofs before they slit their throats. Once the pigs are upside down, they give up and stop struggling. I know now my heart was like one of those pigs. Nothing was left in me for struggle. The end of everything I knew was upon me.
- Nancy
