She married an African man at 21 and left us… but every year she sends us the same message”

Then two. Then five. I stopped asking. Only the money kept coming — every year, exactly eighty thousand dollars, with a short message: “Mom, take good care of yourself. I’m doing well.” That word — well — was what worried me most. We had a video call once. She was still beautiful, but her eyes weren’t the same. Always in a hurry. Always distant. I asked why she didn’t come home. She went quiet, then said: “I’m very busy, Mom.” I didn’t ask again. Sometimes, mothers become cowards out of fear of hearing the truth.

Time passed. My house improved thanks to the money she sent. Everyone said I was fortunate. But how can you be happy eating alone every day? Every Christmas, I set a place for her. I would cook her favorite stew and cry in silence. Twelve years. It’s too long. Finally, I made a decision: I was going to Korea. I didn’t tell her anything. For a sixty-three-year-old woman who had never left the country, it was madness. But I bought the ticket with trembling hands and went.