Remembering My Father

When I was twelve, my dad decided to move our family to a new city where he was joining a new newspaper company as a founding member. He had to leave for that city earlier to get started as the editor-in-chief. I missed my dad so much that I wrote almost everyday about how much I was missing him in my journal, until we all moved to that city after a couple of months.

My dad, Byung-Gil Kim, left us for a new destination again on November 1, 2024. After a long battle with cancer for eight years, he died in Korea, leaving a great legacy behind, Ulsan Maeil Newspaper, where he dedicated 32 years of his life. I am not that little girl anymore, but I miss him more than ever.

It was such a beautiful autumn day in Korea on the day when we went to the cremation site after the funeral. Changing colors in the trees shining in the warm autumn sunshine was so mesmerizing, as if my dad was gently reminding me that life was beautiful even in the presence of his death that I couldn’t fathom.

Knowing that he doesn’t have to suffer anymore from his cancer gives me a certain sense of relief but this grief — it’s unknown to me. I never experienced this realm of grief. The writer Kathryn Schulz wrote in her memoir, “Lost & Found”, how she expressed the death of her own father as she “lost” her dad vs. her dad “died” or “passed away”. That’s how it feels to me too. I lost my dad. It feels as if he’s somewhere I don’t know, rather than that he disappeared from this world. I have never been in this world without him. Now I am.

In his last few months, he often expressed his regrets of not taking good care of his relationships with people in his life. During the funeral, I really wished my dad were there to witness the outpouring love and respect from everyone who paid tribute to him and honored him. His current and past colleagues revered and valued his dedication over 50 years to the journalism in Korea. His lifelong friends from high school and university told me how much they loved him. And most of all, I hope he knows how grateful my brother and I were to be his children and how much we loved him.

Dad,

Wherever you are, I hope you enjoy watching baseball, writing novels that you always wanted to write, and traveling around the world freely without pain, as much as you want. Don’t worry about me. I’ll enjoy this beautiful life with people I love as much as I can and will come see you when it’s time.

I am glad I am your daughter. I miss you and love you so much.

Your daughter, Miroo