Gina Kim Case

Gina Kim

Mr. Warken

English 105

July 18, 2013

An Architect of My Life

I am not that young anymore, but I am not that old either. I am not that rich yet, but I am not that poor either. I am not smart, but I am not dumb either. In a word, I am an ordinary or an average middle-aged woman. Yet, there is one thing different about me from my friends; I am a college student, and I am pursuing my dream of being a registered nurse. I have my goal which makes me happy.

When I was in my teens, I just wanted to be happy. Although I did not know what makes me happy, I used to say I wanted to be happy. That was my goal and my philosophy. But I did not know what “happiness” meant to me. Moreover, I was not that happy either. I thought if I listened to others and got along well with people, my happiness would come to me naturally. However, I was wrong.

My mother had me when she was forty-two years old. It was quite a late age to have a baby. Many people told me that I must be the princess in my family. They were wrong. It was my mother who was raised like a princess. She was the youngest of seven children in a rich family in North Korea before the Korean War. Since she was a very smart girl, my grandfather sent her to college. It was very rare for a woman to go to college. However, the Korean War occurred when she was in college, and she had to quit studying. She always complained that if there was no war, she would be a professor. It was her dream. I knew if she had kept studying, she would be a professor by now. I felt sorry for her.

On the other hand, my sister thought differently. My sister once told me “She always complained about the war or our father, but she did enjoy doing whatever she wanted. She traveled to almost every country with her friends, not even with our father. Father always worked even when she was traveling. She left us behind as well, right? How come she complains she is not loved by family? She was the one who did not love us.” I thought these words were too harsh for our mother who raised us. However, after having my daughter, I came to understand what my sister mentioned. I realized my mother put herself first. There is nothing wrong with that, but I just want to say that she should not have spent time complaining. As her daughter, I understand how much she suffered, but I do not understand why she focused so much on her loss not on her