"Chunghee, have you visited Sister Hyu Nie's grave?"
I smiled. I walked toward a middle-aged woman who asked me while she was cleaning the windows of her house. Once near her, I replied, "Yes, I have. I was just there to change the flower and pray for her."
Hyu Nie was the name of my mother. Meanwhile, the woman who just asked me was my mother's younger sister, Bo Hwa. Even though she was almost fifty years old, her face still looked younger than her age.
She lived alone as her two sons were working outside the city, while her husband had died since her eldest son was ten years old and her younger son was five years old.
However, even though she was my mother's younger sister, I didn't get along with her well as we saw each other rarely. As I remembered, from the past until now, we had only met three times; since I was five years old at my mother's funeral — when my grandmother died — and now.
