Grandpa was a childhood hero of mine. Every time I visited Korea, he waited in anticipation for my brother and me, eager to take us on adventures.
I remember how loud and assertive he was and how I would not want to end up on the receiving end of his voice. It was always the same routine. He would pick us up, take us out to eat, buy toy guns for us to shoot at each other with, and laugh till our stomachs hurt.
One day, I remember coming inside his bedroom and seeing his hunting rifle. I was mesmerized by the steel polish and bullets scattered across the floor. “Jay, we’ll go hunting together one day,” he proudly proclaimed. I was ecstatic, hoping the day would arrive sooner than later. Years passed by, and I visited him back in Korea. This time, however, he had no hunting rifles and almost no money. An investment fraud had scammed him and was living by the penny. But despite his worsened state, he still shone joy upon seeing me. As I was leaving, he grabbed my arm and placed a crumpled $50 bill in my hand. I immediately protested out of regret, only for him to tighten my hand around the bill.
“Grandson, you live a good life. Be good to your parents and stay in school. I’ll always love you and see you soon.” I left with the money. Two years later, my grandfather passed away alone in a hospital room. We never went hunting, but he left me with memories immeasurable beyond worth. He showed me that you don’t need anything when you give away everything.
