For those of you out there reading this, thanks a million! :) This one's for the reviewers.
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Meahri could remember it all clearly in her mind's eye, and when she went back to that day, a smile instantly graced her lips and tears leaked from her eyes.
The day she married, how happy she felt and how right it seemed to have Yooni Oppa next to her. For the first time, he was beside her and she beside him as equals, man and woman. The day she entered her honeymoon suite and the way she felt in his arms. Loved, safe, warm, cared for, adored.
The day she entered their new home when everything looked bright and shiny. When she realized this was all hers and his, all the things that made up a life together.
The day that marked a hundred days of marriage and his surprise. And the way he continued to surprise her since that day.
The day that her new friends realized who her husband was and the day her friends teased her and called her "ahjumma" even though she could see envy in their eyes as they thought about her life.
The day that marked the first real argument she ever had with Yoon. And she recalled the way she had locked herself in the bathroom and cried, only letting herself out when she realized that their argument meant he thought her worth explaining himself to.
The day she graduated from school after years of starting and stopping when more than anything she wanted Yoon to take a picture with her.
The day she came home so drunk, that she could barely move the next morning. When he held her hair as she vomited over the toilet.
The day she got a job as an assistant at a handbag company. When he verbally told her how happy he was for her.
The day Yoon told her, without any prompting or prodding, but offhand in an nonchalant and expectant way, that he loved her.
The day that they bumped into each other visiting Jung Ah's memorial in the charnal house. The awkwardness that lingered as Meahri remembered that he had loved and lost before she had come to be by his side.
The day that they agreed to visit Jung Ah together on her deathday anniversary every year and, for a brief few moments, relive days past before they were partners.
The day she realized that she and Yoon had become friends as well as spouses, relaxing in each other's company without effort or energy, but simply being and sharing and talking.
The day that her first handbag went out on the market and Yoon bought twenty and handed them out to people he knew because he was so proud of her.
The day that marked ten years together, and the day that marked twenty. How quickly the days passed and how suddenly. When she realized they were friends, lovers, spouses, partners. When she realized two lifetimes with Yoon would not be enough.
The day that marked her thirtieth birthday and then her fortieth. How she realized that the age gap lessened as the years passed instead of widened as others had feared.
The day she saw her first gray hair in the mirror, and she looked over and saw the salt-and-pepper hair on his head. And the day she realized that, to her, Yoon would always be and look like the Oppa she remembered in childhood.
But, most of all, she remembered that day, the day when she and Yoon became more than husband and wife. But when they became parents to the same child. How she held that small and tiny wonder in her arms, and cried at the miracle she saw in her eyes. And how Yoon stroked her back and told her what a wonderful job she had done.
And she remembered all the days that her son had spent growing up, how he cried the first day she dropped him off at school, the day she saw him laugh with his friends on the playground, the day she realized he had his first crush on a girl, the day he brought home his results for his college entrance exam, the day he told her he was going to medical school, the day he said he would specialize in pediatrics, the day he told her he met the woman he was going to marry, and, she supposed, she would always remember this day, the day her son became someone's husband, someone's son-in-law.
Meahri could feel the twinge of regret welling up inside her as she watched the ceremony take place. From today onwards he would no longer merely be her son. A stage of life was ending. A new one was beginning.
And for a moment, for a brief moment, as a hint of breeze brushed against her cheek, she remembered the girl that she had been thirty years ago. That Meahri refused to feel sadness, refused to dwell in regret. She chased, she ran after her dreams and grabbed her fate so tightly that it still clung to her even after she had tried to let it go. That Meahri saw only the happiness, the goodness of life even as she was aware of the world's troubles. On that day, thirty years ago, Meahri had been the bride. And she had anticipated the next phase of her life without looking back, without wondering, without sadness.
Meahri could remember it all clearly in her mind's eye, and when she went back to that day, a smile instantly graced her lips and tears leaked from her eyes. In one brief moment, as she thought about that day, the day that led to his birth and his beginnings, Meahri could only hope that her son would be as blessed as she was. That he would be as happy as she was. That he would be as at peace as she was. That he would have someone by his always as she did.
Meahri squeezed her husband's hand, and felt the comfort of it as their fingers intertwined together as they had for the last thirty years. The familiarity sent a spark of nostalgia through her. But as she looked at her son and his bride, she saw the future. And it was bright. And it was good. And Meahri could only think of the days that were to come and smile.