thankful for ohma.
for the unconditional love God has for me, manifested in you.
for the times you've made me hotdog ketchup dishes, or mooshed corn beef hash into shapes, or making kamja gook (but then sometimes adding that dumb pollack to make bookuhgook), or bringing me pound cake after work, making shirley temples
you taught me to love others and to serve them with your hospitality and warmness; sometimes you work too hard. working for noona and me, giving us money whenever we ask for it, i dont think you've ever said no to us. defending us instead of disciplining, loving us so that we would love ourselves.
doing boo-ong for you or massaging your back or stepping on your back (when I wasn't so fat) is not nearly what you deserve, for all the hours you work or the hurt you feel, but you are my mother and a wonderful one.
your treasures in heaven are all deserved because everything i am is because of how you have loved me (and fed me), and how you are still loving me (and feeding me).
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