To my hero
© 2022 BTS My Love All right reserved.Everyone has a hero in their life. That hero might be a character from a movie or someone from their own imagination. But my hero is someone who is both special and incredibly ordinary.
"My daughter! Tell me whatever you want to eat. Daddy will make it all for you."
My hero, the one who dedicated his life solely to me since I came into this world, is my dad.
18 years ago, my mother became very weak after overdoing her job as a nurse. My father, who loved and cherished her more than anyone else, cared for and cherished her, not himself, who should have been the top priority in his life. That's why he thought more carefully about having a baby, and his opinion was divided, with my father saying that it was okay not to have a baby for my mother's sake and my mother wanting to have a child who resembled her. They say that in the end, the one who loves more will give it their all, and that was certainly my father. We were very careful to have a baby, but despite my father's utmost devotion, my mother, who was already weak and pregnant with a baby, became even weaker. On the day I was born, I was born with the meaning of a precious person sent from heaven.HaramHe gave us a name, and left us after telling my father and me that he loved us.
At the young age of 22, my father, who had become a single father while holding me in his arms when I was a newborn, was so absorbed in caring for me that he could do nothing but whine in his arms, without even having time to feel the sorrow of parting with the person he loved. For my father, who was experiencing everything for the first time, there were countless difficulties. My mother was everything to my father, who had no parents or siblings, and I, the sprout left behind by her, became everything to him.
"Daughter! Eat breakfast and go!"
"I have to leave early because it's my turn today. I'll go to school!"
.
.
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Spring 2010.
Back in kindergarten, when I was a recalcitrant little kid, at the age of six, the thing I envied most about my friends wasn't their Barbie dolls or their pretty dresses, but their mothers. Every time I saw my friends playing and frolicking with their mothers, I'd cry, and every time I did, I'd throw a needless tantrum at my dad.
Why do I not have a mother? Where did my mother go?I still vividly remember my father's restless, uneasy state. Every time I heard such stories from him, I felt a pang of pain in my heart as I thought of him, groaning in silence.
At kindergarten, we occasionally observed a class called "Cooking Time with Mom." While observing a class with mom is beneficial for children's growth and learning, for me, who doesn't have a mother, it was a tedious experience that only reminded me of her. Whenever I observed a class like this, my dad would always put aside his work and make time to come. While I wasn't particularly happy about his presence, I didn't hate it. Being with a teacher without either of my parents was the saddest thing of all. I probably felt like a child left alone without a parent. But I never felt that way, because I had a father.
My dad was the only father among the mothers participating in the observation class. If it were me, I would have been embarrassed, but I guess it wasn't him. With a bright smile and a soft voice,"My daughter is doing really well! Haram is the best!"My father, who was a boxer, seemed happier than anyone else. He never showed me the strictness he showed when training boxers. He never even got angry at me.
My dad, who trains boxers, is a former boxer and current boxing coach. He uses the muscles and strength he's developed through training to hug me, cook, and, in short, do everything he does for me. I once heard that on the day of the observation class, he carried all the ingredients by himself, and all the female teachers at our kindergarten were completely captivated by his skill.
Summer 2013.
I shed my reckless kindergartener self and became an elementary school student. It was during this time that I first experienced that one-sided crush that everyone experiences at least once. My dad, who was no longer in kindergarten but could walk to school on his own, treated me like a child, saying I was too young to do it yet. He would take me to school and pick me up after school. Then one day in second grade, we had a shortened school day, so I went to a boxing gym near our school by myself. I'd seen my dad work there a few times from the outside, but I'd never been inside.
I wanted to surprise my dad and show him I wasn't a baby anymore. Now that I think about it, I realize my dad was overprotective. He never let me do anything dangerous, and he always kept an eye on me when we were together.
Before I could startle my dad like that, I opened the boxing gym door slightly and peeked in. For the first time, I saw him angry. In my memories, he was always smiling, laughing, and happy, so seeing him scolding the boxers with a frown and an angry voice felt completely unfamiliar.
At the sight of my unfamiliar father, I began to hiccup involuntarily. Fearing he might hear, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, but it was too late. Hearing my hiccup, he turned around, and upon seeing me covering my mouth and groaning, his already large eyes dilated.
I shed my reckless kindergartener self and became an elementary school student. It was during this time that I first experienced that one-sided crush that everyone experiences at least once. My dad, who was no longer in kindergarten but could walk to school on his own, treated me like a child, saying I was too young to do it yet. He would take me to school and pick me up after school. Then one day in second grade, we had a shortened school day, so I went to a boxing gym near our school by myself. I'd seen my dad work there a few times from the outside, but I'd never been inside.
I wanted to surprise my dad and show him I wasn't a baby anymore. Now that I think about it, I realize my dad was overprotective. He never let me do anything dangerous, and he always kept an eye on me when we were together.
Before I could startle my dad like that, I opened the boxing gym door slightly and peeked in. For the first time, I saw him angry. In my memories, he was always smiling, laughing, and happy, so seeing him scolding the boxers with a frown and an angry voice felt completely unfamiliar.
"Are you here to play? Is training a joke?
How are you going to go about competing like that, huh?!”
At the sight of my unfamiliar father, I began to hiccup involuntarily. Fearing he might hear, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand, but it was too late. Hearing my hiccup, he turned around, and upon seeing me covering my mouth and groaning, his already large eyes dilated.
"Haram...? Daughter, how did you get here?"
As I whimpered and hiccupped, my dad brought me some lukewarm water from the water purifier. I drank it and finally calmed down, and the hiccups stopped. Only then did I explain to him how I had ended up here. After hearing my story, he looked me over, checking for any injuries. Only when he saw me unscathed did he finally feel relieved and let out a faint sigh.
I'm so worried about you getting hurt, Dad.He held me tightly in his arms, eyes filled with worry, and leaned against me for a long time. The players were astonished at the coach's first glimpse of their father. He, who always had a stern, intimidating expression and a voice that could sway anyone, was so kind, warm, and gentle, it must have been a shock. But the most surprising thing was that this kind of behavior was something he only showed to me, his daughter.
Since that day, I've come to realize that my dad, too, can get angry. But he's never shown it to me. Even I think he's a complete doting father.
"Daughter, don't come here alone in the future, it's dangerous."
I'm so worried about you getting hurt, Dad.He held me tightly in his arms, eyes filled with worry, and leaned against me for a long time. The players were astonished at the coach's first glimpse of their father. He, who always had a stern, intimidating expression and a voice that could sway anyone, was so kind, warm, and gentle, it must have been a shock. But the most surprising thing was that this kind of behavior was something he only showed to me, his daughter.
Since that day, I've come to realize that my dad, too, can get angry. But he's never shown it to me. Even I think he's a complete doting father.
Fall 2017.
When I started wearing a school uniform in middle school, I was going through puberty and giving my father a hard time. My father's overprotectiveness, which I hadn't given much thought to in elementary school, was starting to wear me down. Every single worry he voiced was irritating and sounded like nagging. As I began to rebel, I let his words go in one ear and out the other. I had driven a nail into my father's heart, who was doing his best to fill the void left by my mother. And it was a nail that would never be removed.
I blurted out to my father words I couldn't possibly utter. If I were in his place right now, I would have slapped myself with all my might and told me to shut up. That day, after I'd uttered those harsh words to him and run away from home, he was running around in the pouring rain, umbrella-less, searching for me.
I can still vividly recall the trembling voice of my father, who used to call me desperately as he ran around. He knelt down on one knee and muttered an apology to me as I crouched in the corner of the alley, soaking wet and shivering.
I should have been the one to say sorry, but I was a burden in Dad's life, and yet he was the one who apologized to me. A liquid, either rainwater or tears, fell from Dad's face, and he opened the umbrella he was holding without even using it and placed it over me.
It felt like someone had trapped me, and the words "I'm sorry," just wouldn't come out. Dad, without saying a word, wrapped his hand around my neck, as if he knew how I felt without me having to say a word. I happened to glance at his feet as he tried to help me up, and he was wearing slippers with two pairs of slits. The thought of how desperate he must have been, to have worn slippers with two pairs of slits instead of shoes, made the tears I'd been holding back burst out and flow. What on earth had I done to him? I shook myself violently. From then on, no matter how difficult it was, I tried not to hurt him. Did my mother in heaven notice my efforts? My tumultuous adolescence passed by before I knew it.
When I started wearing a school uniform in middle school, I was going through puberty and giving my father a hard time. My father's overprotectiveness, which I hadn't given much thought to in elementary school, was starting to wear me down. Every single worry he voiced was irritating and sounded like nagging. As I began to rebel, I let his words go in one ear and out the other. I had driven a nail into my father's heart, who was doing his best to fill the void left by my mother. And it was a nail that would never be removed.
"What is a father, and not even a mother...!"
I blurted out to my father words I couldn't possibly utter. If I were in his place right now, I would have slapped myself with all my might and told me to shut up. That day, after I'd uttered those harsh words to him and run away from home, he was running around in the pouring rain, umbrella-less, searching for me.
"Haram!! Haram!!"
I can still vividly recall the trembling voice of my father, who used to call me desperately as he ran around. He knelt down on one knee and muttered an apology to me as I crouched in the corner of the alley, soaking wet and shivering.
"Daughter, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
I should have been the one to say sorry, but I was a burden in Dad's life, and yet he was the one who apologized to me. A liquid, either rainwater or tears, fell from Dad's face, and he opened the umbrella he was holding without even using it and placed it over me.
It felt like someone had trapped me, and the words "I'm sorry," just wouldn't come out. Dad, without saying a word, wrapped his hand around my neck, as if he knew how I felt without me having to say a word. I happened to glance at his feet as he tried to help me up, and he was wearing slippers with two pairs of slits. The thought of how desperate he must have been, to have worn slippers with two pairs of slits instead of shoes, made the tears I'd been holding back burst out and flow. What on earth had I done to him? I shook myself violently. From then on, no matter how difficult it was, I tried not to hurt him. Did my mother in heaven notice my efforts? My tumultuous adolescence passed by before I knew it.
Winter 2021. Currently
Countless young women approached my father, who had a warm face no one could ignore, but he always politely declined. My father was so handsome that people would believe he was my older brother if I told them he was my older brother. One day, he told me that the only woman he would love in this world until the day he died was my mother. As soon as I heard that, I could feel how much my father loved my mother. Before I passed puberty, I couldn't even imagine my father meeting someone else, but once I passed that stage, I started to worry about him being alone. When I fell in love and got married, he would really be alone, so I started thinking that it would be good for him to meet a good person now. I wish he would live his life for me, not for me.
Dad must be really upset. He must feel like his beloved daughter has been taken away from him.He looks at me with a wet puppy-faced expression. I wonder if anyone will say my daughter is a fool. I was just asking casually, but seeing him say this makes me feel like things are going to get really bad if he ever gets a boyfriend...
You know dad is always on our daughter's side, right?Although he smiles faintly, you can clearly see that he looks sad.My only father. I still have a father like that.I don't really have any desire to date anyone. But I'm still concerned about my father, who is the only one I have.
Countless young women approached my father, who had a warm face no one could ignore, but he always politely declined. My father was so handsome that people would believe he was my older brother if I told them he was my older brother. One day, he told me that the only woman he would love in this world until the day he died was my mother. As soon as I heard that, I could feel how much my father loved my mother. Before I passed puberty, I couldn't even imagine my father meeting someone else, but once I passed that stage, I started to worry about him being alone. When I fell in love and got married, he would really be alone, so I started thinking that it would be good for him to meet a good person now. I wish he would live his life for me, not for me.
"Dad. If you get a boyfriend, I will
What are you going to do?"
"boy friend?"
"Yeah. Boyfriend."
"Um... if my daughter gets a boyfriend..."
"It's not like I'm going to get a boyfriend right away."
"Dad, I would be upset if my daughter had a boyfriend,
Still, I won't object."
You know dad is always on our daughter's side, right?Although he smiles faintly, you can clearly see that he looks sad.My only father. I still have a father like that.I don't really have any desire to date anyone. But I'm still concerned about my father, who is the only one I have.
Since my dad wasn't interested in women, I rolled up my sleeves and went out of my way to find a good man. But since I was a student, finding someone around my dad's age was limited. Since I only commuted between school, the academy, and home, I didn't have many connections. If I had known, I would have met more people. Why did I only realize now that the more connections you have, the better?
As I was walking along, rolling a small pebble with the tip of my shoe, frustrated that I couldn't find a good man for my dad, I heard a familiar voice calling my name.I turned my head toward the sound, and it was none other than the owner of the flower shop I'd known since elementary school. He was a warm, kind, and even pretty person, like a mother to me, who had no mother.
It's nothing. I'm just feeling a little lonely today.Come to think of it, the flower shop owner had also lost her husband in an accident and had been living for a long time. She was about the same age as my father, and she was the only woman he ever spoke to, despite being completely uninterested in women. Why hadn't I thought of the flower shop owner, who treated me like a daughter, even though he was so kind to me?
Meeting someone? Of course not. Who would meet an old woman like me? I bristled slightly at that.What are you talking about, sir? You're still pretty, young, and such a nice person.He smiled faintly, as if he was pleased with my answer. Thank you for saying that, Haram. Even if it's just empty words, it's okay.
The florist smiled happily, perhaps lost in memories. She looked so beautiful, if I were a man, I'd fall in love at first sight.
As I was walking along, rolling a small pebble with the tip of my shoe, frustrated that I couldn't find a good man for my dad, I heard a familiar voice calling my name.I turned my head toward the sound, and it was none other than the owner of the flower shop I'd known since elementary school. He was a warm, kind, and even pretty person, like a mother to me, who had no mother.
"Haram, why are you so glum? What's wrong?"
It's nothing. I'm just feeling a little lonely today.Come to think of it, the flower shop owner had also lost her husband in an accident and had been living for a long time. She was about the same age as my father, and she was the only woman he ever spoke to, despite being completely uninterested in women. Why hadn't I thought of the flower shop owner, who treated me like a daughter, even though he was so kind to me?
"Sir, may I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, what is it? What's the question? Is that rude?"
"Are you seeing anyone?"
Meeting someone? Of course not. Who would meet an old woman like me? I bristled slightly at that.What are you talking about, sir? You're still pretty, young, and such a nice person.He smiled faintly, as if he was pleased with my answer. Thank you for saying that, Haram. Even if it's just empty words, it's okay.
"It's not just empty words. So, is there anyone you'd like to meet?"
"Well... I don't think I have any desire to meet anyone. I just
It's okay to live like this now."
"How long has it been since you met me, sir?"
"It's been years since I first met you... I was still in my early thirties. Five years ago. Back then, Haram, you were a really cute, tiny elementary school student, and now you've grown into a beautiful young lady. Time really flies, doesn't it?"
The florist smiled happily, perhaps lost in memories. She looked so beautiful, if I were a man, I'd fall in love at first sight.
"Maybe that's why my boss is like my mother. When I'm having a hard time, he listens to me. When I'm happy, he's happy with me. When good things happen,
When you have time, congratulate me more sincerely than anyone else"
"Thank you for thinking so. I too am mentally and emotionally exhausted from losing my husband.
When things were so hard, I was able to endure it because you were there. I am a child
But Haram, I always thought of you as my daughter."
Well... what does our dad think?Finally, the most important topic was brought up. I couldn't leave my father alone, even for the sake of the future. Huh...? Your father...? The boss looked slightly flustered, perhaps because of the unexpected question.Yes. My dad. You know my dad is kind, warm, and a good person, right? And you know he's handsome, right?
The boss, with a bright smile, nodded slightly. I figured he couldn't possibly dislike my dad.
As soon as I got home, I pulled my dad's arm around me and sat him down on the sofa. With his usual smile on his face, he asked me what I wanted to say. I gathered my wits and slowly asked him if he had any plans to meet anyone.
Oh, let's stop talking about that. When I get married, I won't be able to live with my dad. Won't I be lonely then?Perhaps it was because I was proud of myself for even thinking this way, or perhaps it was because I was touched just thinking of him. My father gently stroked my head and cautiously opened his mouth.
"Yes, I know your father is a good man. But, do you want to connect your father with me?"
"Yes. The boss is a good person, and my father is also a good person.
And the only woman my dad talks to is the boss
I mean, don't you like my dad as a man...?"
"No. That's not it. Even if that's true, the most important thing is
Because it's your father's heart."
"I'll tell Dad myself. Then, would it be okay if only Dad said it was okay?"
The boss, with a bright smile, nodded slightly. I figured he couldn't possibly dislike my dad.
As soon as I got home, I pulled my dad's arm around me and sat him down on the sofa. With his usual smile on his face, he asked me what I wanted to say. I gathered my wits and slowly asked him if he had any plans to meet anyone.
"Daughter... Daddy just needs our daughter."
Oh, let's stop talking about that. When I get married, I won't be able to live with my dad. Won't I be lonely then?Perhaps it was because I was proud of myself for even thinking this way, or perhaps it was because I was touched just thinking of him. My father gently stroked my head and cautiously opened his mouth.
"Haram, who do you want your dad to meet? Are you sure it's okay?"
"What's wrong with me? Dad, you have to live your life now. I just want you to live your own life, even if it's just now."
I could see tears welling up in my father's eyes, perhaps because of my words. My daughter has grown so much. She knows how to think of her father. My father held my hand tightly and gently stroked it as if he were caring for a precious object.What does Dad think of the flower shop owner?The boss...? He's a good man, especially since he's so kind to our daughter, and I'm always grateful for that. My dad's dictionary says that if you're truly kind to me, you become a good person.
Well then, when did I ever lie to my dad?Um... I lied a lot, didn't I?Ahem...! Anyway, do you want to meet up?My daughter wants this, so I'll meet her.Really? There's no need to say anything else later.Don't say anything else. Dad never broke a promise he made to our daughter. But you shouldn't hate me later.
As Dad said, he never broke a promise he made to me. I can't guarantee I remember everything, but I can at least guarantee that I never broke a promise he made to me.
Me too, Dad.Embarrassed, I foolishly forgot to tell my dad the most important thing: "I love you." They say the hardest thing to say to a family member is "I love you," but this phrase felt perfect for me. Feeling guilty about not being able to tell him all night, I sat down at my desk, grabbed a pen, and began writing down on a piece of stationery all the things I'd wanted to say to him all these years, but had kept buried in my heart, the words I'd never dared to say.
"The flower shop owner said that it would be fine as long as my dad is okay with it, but seriously
"Don't you want to meet up?"
"Did the flower shop owner really say that?"
Well then, when did I ever lie to my dad?Um... I lied a lot, didn't I?Ahem...! Anyway, do you want to meet up?My daughter wants this, so I'll meet her.Really? There's no need to say anything else later.Don't say anything else. Dad never broke a promise he made to our daughter. But you shouldn't hate me later.
As Dad said, he never broke a promise he made to me. I can't guarantee I remember everything, but I can at least guarantee that I never broke a promise he made to me.
"Dad, I never once hated you.
My dad is meHave you ever hated someone?"
"Our daughter, a precious person sent from heaven to you. I've been able to live this long because of you, and I've been happy, and that will never change."
"Dad never hated you. He was always grateful, someone's
Since this is my first time being a father, I am very clumsy and lacking.
Because of this dadIt must have been very difficult, but I hope you grow up well and beautifully."
"Our daughter, Haram, is the reason I exist. Daddy loves you so much."
Me too, Dad.Embarrassed, I foolishly forgot to tell my dad the most important thing: "I love you." They say the hardest thing to say to a family member is "I love you," but this phrase felt perfect for me. Feeling guilty about not being able to tell him all night, I sat down at my desk, grabbed a pen, and began writing down on a piece of stationery all the things I'd wanted to say to him all these years, but had kept buried in my heart, the words I'd never dared to say.
My hero, Dad. I love you so much...