In the summer of '22, I embarked on a 633 national land traverse with friends.
In the middle, we stayed overnight in Mungyeong, Gyeongbuk.
Mungyeong is my hometown, but in the early 90s, coal mines closed one after another, and I left my hometown in 4th grade due to my father's job situation.
I missed it dearly. My neighborhood, the friends I left behind.
While eating at a restaurant, I asked the owner grandmother.
I asked if she knew the owner of OO Restaurant, saying I used to live here and my mother worked at that restaurant,
and that I was friends with that family's daughter.
Then the owner grandmother said that the restaurant owner and his wife lived right nearby.
From that moment, my heart began to race.
I had always cherished the memory of how the restaurant owner and his wife took great care of me and adored me during my poor childhood,
and now I might meet them today..
So I sent my friends to the accommodation first and went to find them, but all the lights were off and there was no sign of anyone.
With a feeling of regret, the next day came.
Thinking I would regret it if I left it at that, I went again just before departure. (wearing thermal underwear and a crop top)
When I knocked on the door, a stranger came out, and I wondered if I had come to the wrong place,
but the person who came out was a caregiver, as both of them were suffering from dementia.
When I explained everything, the caregiver brought them out, and they looked just as they used to, just older.
They seemed to recognize me, yet seemed not to. Either way, I greeted them, left my phone number with the caregiver, and pedaled on again.
While I was stamping Buljeong Station, a phone call came in.
It was the restaurant owner's daughter, my childhood friend.
My friend said thank you for finding her parents and that she felt like she might cry, and I too felt deeply moved.
So after thirty-some years, we reconnected and have been checking in on each other from time to time.
Last winter, I heard from my friend about her mother's passing and attended the funeral.
Even thinking about it now, it was the most touching and memorable day I've ever spent cycling.
