My baby brother
at one year old

I am following my friend Debbie's suggestion that I journal about my emotions following my baby brother's untimely death.

That's right. My baby brother, the invincible, the indefatigable Jung, died on September 30th in a motorcycle accident. As I write this, it is still very hard for me to believe that he is gone.

The last picture of the
 three of us together

My brother had been the model of health. He was bench-pressing close to 300 pounds, he was becoming huge. He was quite proud of it. Before that, he had tried many ball sports, but was never good at any of them. In high school he played basketball every day after school with his buddies with no improvement. He was also slow, so much so that his German schoolmates called him Ackergaul. But bench-pressing was different. I hear that he was becoming somewhat of a legend at the gym at the school where he taught. It was a science, read geek, school, so it wasn't like there were jocks he had to compete against. Still it was obvious that he spent a lot of time at the gym and loved every minute he spent there.

When I got the news, I had just gotten up to get ready for work. It was a Friday. I had just made a trip to Chicago with Bobby the previous weekend, so I was looking forward to having a relaxing weekend. Then I saw this very simple message from my sister on my phone.

Jung left this world a short while ago in a traffic accident. 

I called my mother. She was on her way to Daejeon where my brother lived. What happened? She was calm. Jung died in a traffic accident. Can you believe it? We are on our way. Can you come? Yes. I will look for tickets right away. How long can you stay? As long as I need to. Can you stay for 10 days? Yes, I can. Who should come? Dad wants just you. Just you.

Then I messaged my sister. What the hell happened? He must have died in a motorcycle accident. I knew this would happen! Yes, that is what I hear. He was hit by a cab making an illegal turn. Had he been in a car, he would have walked away from it? Perhaps. I was mad. I wanted tell my brother, I TOLD YOU SO! NOW LOOK AT WHAT HAPPENED!

I immediately started looking for tickets. It was too late to catch the day's flights to Seoul. I settled for looking for flying out the next day. Finally I found a flight that left the next morning from Raleigh to arrive in Seoul in the evening on Sunday. I set up all of my classes up online for while I was to be gone, then I started packing. What does one pack on such short notice? How is it that brother died without any notice? Nothing had sunk in yet. As I was packing, I was still in disbelief.

I am in fact still in disbelief only to be interrupted by moments of reality.

I called my mother and told her of my itinerary that night. As we were video-chatting, my mother, clothed in Korean mourning garb, asked me if I wanted to see Jung's funeral picture. Then she turned the phone. She said, Look at him, smiling silly. And he was. He always had a great smile. And he was smiling like he always did.

That night I slept horribly, perhaps getting 2 hours of sleep. The whole flight to Seoul is a blur. My memory picks up when I got to Seoul. I found the ticket booth for the shuttles, and got myself a ticket to Daejeon. I then called my mother. I should be in Daejeon around 10. During the whole ride, I was dreaming of alternately between my brother being dead and my brother being alive.

It was overwhelming seeing everyone at the funeral parlor on the basement floor of the hospital where brother had been taken. The hallway was covered with flowers that had been sent. All white Chrysanthemums as white is the color of mourning in Korea. Chrysanthemums from individuals, universities, groups, mostly names that I didn't recognize.

Then I entered the room where people were paying respects. Kyurie and Hongkyu were sitting along the one side of the room as if in a receiving line. Then I saw my brother's picture. With that silly smile too happy for someone who just died. And I lost it. I couldn't stop my tears. The reality was sinking in. I changed into the mourning outfit. My mother was worried about me having had a long trip and being hungry, so led me into the hall across the hallway where meals were being served to guests.

My brother's octopus lips were not
popular with nieces and nephews

My mother calmly told me what was been happening on the day I arrived. My brother's body had been placed ritualistically into the simple pine coffin. She wished that I had been there. It is a custom in Korea that you don't open a casket once it is sealed. I wished that I could have come earlier so I could have seen my brother one last time. Kissed him one last time. He had always been such an avid lover of kisses, especially for his sisters, nieces, and nephews, we sometimes called him octopus lips. I not only regret, I am hopelessly and infinitely sad about it.

My father assured me that my brother looked at peace. There was not a scratch on his face. In fact, there were only three places that had been opened and sutured up on his right side post-mortem as he was brought into the hospital already dead. He had died very quickly. My father was very matter-of-fact. So much so that I wondered if he knew that his beloved son had died. How is it that he is so calm?

At about one o'clock, my mother, my sister, and I headed for the hotel. The next morning was to start early at 6:30 with the cremation and the interment of his ashes scheduled. We have a family plot on the mountainside in the country about an hour and a half south of Seoul. My sister and I talked a little, then I tried to sleep. quietly. I heard my mother finally fall asleep, starting to snore quietly. I slept maybe for 3 hours. I was still walking between dreamland and reality.

As I write this, it still seems like a dream to me, not just a dream, but a dream that is many times removed from me. It does not even seem like my dream. It seems like someone else's dream.

I got into the car as I left my last class today at UNCW. I am getting back into my normal teaching routine. I am finally dealing with this. Jung would be proud. Then the tears welled up in my eyes. They come from nowhere these days. I have sane and very normal hours during the day, immersed in work. Then once or twice a day, suddenly I think about my brother. Sometimes because I think of something to ask him, only to tell myself, no, I can't. He's gone. Or I see Bobby and how much he looks like my brother. I am not sure if this is normal. I guess one cannot be sad all the time or normal all the time after a loss like this. My normal hours are longer, but my sad moments are stronger. We will see how things go. But for now, I am really, really missing my brother.