The Last Time I Smiled All Day

The last time I smiled all day was this year’s Lunar New Year. The comparatively long holidays allowed us to have a family reunion, which we had not been able to have for the past two years, making me smile. It had been a while, so last Sunday made me feel as if some empty part of me had been filled.

So many changes had taken place during the few years; my cousins had grown, whereas the adults had developed more wrinkles. My cousins were no longer the cute little children who loved the playground and the beach, having grown both physically and mentally. My grandparents who used to be so active were now weak and easily tired. Everything seemed unfamiliar, and so at first I could not let go of the worries that things may have changed. After a few conversations, though, I knew that the single fact of us being a solid and outstanding family was still true. That there was not one touch of awkwardness in the atmosphere hinted at the bare truth that we would all be there for each other no matter what, for the one reason that we were family. This made me smile.

Realizing that I had the best supporters in the world also made me smile. This year’s family reunion was particularly meaningful because I noticed that I had my own cheering squad to accompany me through what may be one of the most strenuous years of my life. The adults encouraged me to relax and follow my pace, the direct opposite of what I had thought they would say that I needed to tighten up and focus, given that I was now a senior. They insisted I stop considering others’ views and stick to my own plan, because I knew myself better than anyone else did. Their short but caring words relieved me, especially because I had been torturing myself with the discrepancy between my ideal future and the reality ever since the start of 2013. It was like my head, which had been foggy for some time, was healed by the warmth and support of my family.

But at the same time, I acknowledged that some sort of expectancy was implied in their trust. In between meals, my aunts nudged me to give advice to my cousins, who seemed to have lost focus on what they had to or wanted to do. Frankly, I thought my talking to them would be useless, since children at that age loathe being given instructions. Still, I had to try, so I engaged in a somewhat cliché conversation with them about how should put their best efforts into everything because the future is unknown, but was surprised to see that they were actually interested. Their innocent faces were full of questions: one asked if that would help him get into KMLA, while another wanted to know if maintaining that attitude would help her be like me. I was shocked to notice that I was an inspiration to them, and that to the adults, I, as the oldest granddaughter or niece, was the start of the family’s next generation. The saying that “a good beginning is half the battle” suddenly popped into my head and stayed. I could not stop smiling from then on, having discovered the importance of what I was in charge of and what I meant to them. I had to be a trustworthy and confident person, ready to stand on the lane as the first runner.

The one day trip to Busan was at once tiring and amazing. I cannot stop smiling not even now, for I earned all the energy and support I would need to pull myself through 2013. I never frowned, not once – I smiled all day, immersed in my family’s cheers. (645)