how you always liked your food spicier than mine. how you always remembered to ask for water with no ice for me. how you would carry my bags no matter how often i refused. how you were more stubborn than i was. how you scraped both knees trying to prove how high you could jump. how you stayed awake at night to hold me and tell me stories because i couldn’t sleep. how you knew exactly when to look over at me to catch me crying while watching a movie. how the first thing you would do when you woke up was cover me up with the blankets and then go to the kitchen to make me blueberry pancakes. how you would burn yourself flipping eggs shirtless. how you would let me photograph you when the light was good in the mornings. how you would microwave towels for me to put on my belly when my stomach was hurting. how you left the tops off of all the bottles you drank out of. how you listened to NPR and quoted idioms from different countries. how you would laugh at me when i got things wrong but never ever made me feel stupid. how i would laugh at your mispronunciations. how you would laugh at mine.
“Hopefully, I’ll have lived in so many parts of the world that I feel at home anywhere instead of nowhere. Hopefully, someone will fall in love with me and I’ll fall in love with that someone and we can create a world between us that I’ll believe in more than anything.”
Excerpted from Shinji Moon’s “This is what my mother has taught me“:
This is how you take oil paints off of your hands with turpentine. This
is how you baste a turkey, how you dance at a club to make all the men fall in love
with you. This is where you put your hands, Shinji — you who are so
unsure of what limbs were made for.
The things you’ve inherited from me are all the characteristics of an ox.
There is nothing to be afraid of.
A pair of shoulders is only made for one life. There will be a point where you will have
to take that into consideration. You live to save other people’s lives, but you are capable of
saving only yourself.
I am uncertain of nothing.