KyungOk .. Continue .."The Waiting"

It's Friday night, and I am a bit 'happy' from the Sangria that we just had from a great Portuguese restaurant! All thanks to a friend that had recommended the restaurant to us! It's only a few minutes from where we live..but never knew it existed! Well, to good food and great Sangria!

Well, I wasn't sure if I should be writing tonight being that my mind isn't quite where I would like it to be..but I miss writing here. This is where I feel I can talk about my family that seems so far away. Don't get me wrong, I can easily pick up the phone and call but our distance, our inability to communicate and our many years of separation keeps me apart. I believe this is true for them as well. Also, you may have noticed, but I have been going back and adding to the previous posts as corrections or to make them into longer pieces.

So I write...

The Waiting

I have waited sitting here for some time now. All I know is that I have watched the children come out and play and return back into their classrooms. I am hungry and admit tired from the waiting.

I walked back to the swing set and sat down on the old wooden seat. Grasping the dust between my toes, I kicked the dirt and watched it whirl around my sandals. I leaned forward, held on tightly,and watched the world upside down. I smiled and imagined the children walking head down and bumping into one another like little colorful marbles scrambling out into different directions to find their own special dwellings. As I sat there staring into the field, my imagination broke to the sound of the alarm that rung throughout the school yard. The voice from the speaker had led the children back into their classrooms.

I was alone again. Nothing to entertain me as I waited there for her. I quickly jumped off the seat and leaped onto the cement walk that created a border around the school yard. I stood there high on top of the little wall to look ahead at the rectangular cement building that stood in the middle of this yard. The playground was quiet now. The echoeing voices of laughter disappeared behind the sound of heavy wooden doors closing in response to the voice that came over the speakers.

I began to walk stepping one foot after the other as I balanced myself on the wall, thinking of all the fun we will have and how she would tell me stories of what she had learned that day. I hoped we would practice my Hangul, my name and our Flag. I repeated my steps as I watched the widows of the classroom become larger and larger. I jumped off with one big bounce, dusted off my legs, and stepped up onto the long corridor. All I could see was rows and rows of shoes that lined up along side of the walls, disappearing down into the long hallway. I took a deep breath and began walking down, counting the doors that led to my sister.

I could hardly see into the classroom. The little window sat very high on top the door. I counted the shoes, once, twice and then again. I had already spotted my sister's shoes sitting their neatly in a row but I counted again. I could hear their voices again, some laughter, and then quiet. I sat back down to lean against the wall and to stare out into the boxed in yard. It was hot and the dirt field seemed to reflect back to the sun a golden haze as the dust whirled into little cyclones that danced across the school yard.