Sentimental Mama

Mama sat down on a chair, trying to write about how she feels.
Mama got teary eyes, thinking of her only child, today, off to kindergarten.
Mama tried to act tough, act strong, but no avail.
Mama is sentimental, mama broke into tears.

Will she be fine?
Will she listen to her teacher well?
Will she be shy to make friends?
Will she eat lunch without my guidance?

A butterfly in my stomach woke me up in the middle of night.
It was two a.m., and I looked for my little girl.
She was sleeping soundly, peacefully.
When did she grow so tall, so fast?
I gently grabbed her hand and touched her hair, as I listened to her deep breathing.

Now you will be gone to school most of days.
You will make new friends, meet new teacher, spend your days in the classroom.
You will bring lots of stories to share with me,
I will be there to listen to you, your every single words.

This is how mom feels on a first day of school.
A great sentiment of the reality, our rich memories from the past,
I look at your baby photos, your chubby legs and baby belly, now they are hardly can be found.

My little girl,
I wish you for the best as always.
Have fun at school, enjoy learning, respect others, be confident and be yourself.

Love,
Mom

The Kissing Hand

 

Last Wednesday my daughter and I went to the Round Up meeting at her school. She is going to kindergarten and she will stay seven hours from Monday to Friday. I've been busy buying school supplies, planning lunch menus, driving a school route. I think I'm ready or am I? 

During the Round Up meeting parents and kids sat on the colorful rug, which was settled in the middle of the kindergarten classroom. A teacher sat on the small chair, and introduced the book, The Kissing Hand by Audrey Penn. 

After reading we were asked to move to the craft center and to draw our hands on the construction paper. My daughter and I traced each hands and decorated them with flowers, hearts, and a nail polish as well. A teacher walked around and asked friendly questions to my little girl. She answered without hesitation, "I am a good illustrator and I write a story like my mom." A teacher showed me a big smile, I smiled her back. 

My hand will be placed on top of my daughter's cabinet, so whenever she misses me she will go and touch my hand. Her little hand is already laminated and will be placed in our car rear mirror. 

School starts in less than 36 hours. Although I'm thoroughly done with her prep, I still can't get out of the haze or in a shock that my little baby is going to kindergarten. My girl, however, gave me a strong assurance that she would be fine when the teacher had asked, "are you all going to miss your mom and dad?" 

"No, I'm not going to miss my mom. I'm ready," she answered. 

Summer has Come and Gone

Millennium Park

“One must maintain a little bit of summer, even in the middle of winter.” 
                                                                                                     ― Henry David Thoreau

Roy Lichtenstein: A Retrospective at Art Institute of Chicago

Summer reading program : You Are What You Read in Lincoln-Belmont library

  

Water spray at Fellger Park in Roscoe village

Gold Coast Beach near by Lincoln Park Zoo

Summer has Come and Gone   

      

By Sun Hee Yoon 

What do we do in summer? 

We go to the park, to the museum, to the beach and to the library. 

We spend our days under the sun, under the shade, in the water, and by the water. 

We love to walk, run, swim and relax. 

What did I do in summer 2012? 

I made memories of life with my mom and my family.

How I missed her! Words can't describe how I feel. 

Sometimes I don't know why I feel that way.

Changes for better, changes are good. 

I can drive now, I can drive highway 90/94. 

What do I remember of this summer?

I remember the heat and humidity of the first week of July.

I remember the burning sand and cooling lake breeze on Montrose Beach.

I remember the taste of juicy watermelon out of the refrigerator.

I remember the sound of cicada's singing on a dark green summer tree. 

I remember the laziness creeping over my head, and left me shame and guilt.

I remember my mom.. her gentle grip over my hand, her voices in the house, her laugh with my little girl.

Summer has come and gone.

My mom has come and gone.

My life in Chicago still goes on.

My life must keep moving forward. 

My mom at Art Institute of Chicago

Odyssey Cruise dinner with my mom