Mike and I have finally been able to begin to watch all the video footage we captured during our trip to Korea last year. For reasons that are not worth explaining, it was not until this week, almost a year since we made the first trip to Korea, that we were able to sit down and see what we got.
Wow. I had no idea.
I had not been aware of the fact that Mike had actually caught on video the very first moments.
The very first moment I came face to face with my birth mother.
The very first moment I embraced my birth father.
The very first moment our voices met and our eyes gazed at one another.
The first moment of embrace. The first moment of contact.
After a long thirty-four year separation, the first moment of...everything.
* * *
Suffice to say, I have been feeling intensely emotional. Watching the video footage reeling in front of me as I talk with my Omma, as I exchange thoughts with my Appa is proving to be more startling and more confounding that I had anticipated.
It truly remains ever surreal.
I almost can't believe that the woman in the video sitting next to her biological mother is me.
I almost can't believe that the woman sharing her thoughts with her biological father is me.
Surely, that is someone else walking through Namdaemun market with her Omma.
Surely, that is someone else standing next to her Appa, as he holds his fingers up to make a peace sign.
Surely, the woman in the video sitting at the back of the bus listening to her Appa tell stories of his life is someone else.
Or the woman strolling down a trail with her Omma toward the tombs of King Michu is not me.
Although the video footage is shaky and jumpy at times and shot at odd angles here and there, it still feels as though I am watching a movie about someone else's life, about some other woman's first moments of reunion with her biological mother and father.
But then I look more closely. I listen to the voices and see the faces. The memories begin to flood my mind and heart --and I realize without a doubt that the woman I see is me.