One memory I carry from when my second younger sister was an infant has stayed with me vividly. My mother, resilient and tireless, sold baby chicks at the market each day. My father would head to the construction site in the morning, returning in the late afternoon to help her. It was a rhythm fueled not by comfort, but by necessity.

Most days, my mother took both of my younger sisters with her, wrapping the baby against her back, the way so many mothers did in those days. With them, she’d first stop by a wholesaler to purchase baby chicks, then walk nearly six miles to the market with a box of chicks on her head.

Sometimes, though, she was too exhausted to carry the baby, and she’d leave the nursing infant at home. On those days, when I returned from school, the baby would crawl eagerly toward me, delighted to see me. I’d carry her on my back with a cloth carrier and take her to our mother at the market. After watching my mother nurse her, I would return home alone and spend the rest of the afternoon by myself until the family came back.
That baby sister has grown old and has a grandson of her own—something I have yet to experience. It makes me feel just how fleeting time truly is.

After my grandfather passed away, my father had to drop out of elementary school as his family fell into hardship. He came to Seoul alone and made a living doing manual labor. Eventually, he met my mother, started a family, and worked even harder at construction sites to support us.

But as the number of family members grew, so did his burden—and, inevitably, his stress. Whether by nature or as a result, my father turned to alcohol and cigarettes as companions.
Around the age of nine, I often ran errands for his alcohol. When he came home from work in the evening, I would take a kettle, walk down from our hilltop neighborhood, and buy makgeolli from the grocery store at the foot of the hill. In the U.S., a nine-year-old would never be allowed to buy alcohol—but back then in Korea, it was possible.

Whether it was from watching my father enjoy drinking and smoking or something inherited, I too became hooked on alcohol and cigarettes later in life. My son also went through a similar phase. Although I’ve now been free from both for a long time, I often look back and regret how much I depended on them.

Try opening up to your son.