I went to my paternal grandfather’s grave yesterday morning with my parents and my uncle (father’s younger brother).

I don’t remember if I ever shared the story about my grandfather. I only briefly mentioned him a year ago, but there has been so much more drama between him and my family, all of which I recalled as I stood in front of his grave, holding my parents’ hands.

3 generations of the Lee Family, buried at this private spot in the mountains…

Growing up, I was actually never close to my grandfather. Not because I did not want to, but because I was never given the chance due to the tension between my father and my grandfather. You see, my grandfather didn’t just dislike Christianity—he loathed it with a passion. So imagine his absolute disgust and shock when his first son decided to give up his prestigious job as a college professor to become a missionary—in some random diminutive country called Singapore, no less.

My father fueled fire with oil by arduously evangelizing to my grandfather whenever he got the chance. The relationship between my father and my grandfather got so strained that he refused to answer our calls, hanging up on us and even telling my mother that he “hated” my father, and thus had no desire to see his grandchildren, either.

My brother and my grandfather, 4 years ago. 

But trials came upon my grandfather. He lost all his money to the 1997 economic crash in Korea. His second son became an alcoholic, banging on his door dead-drunk and late at night several times a week. His oldest daughter had financial, marriage, and parental problems. His youngest daughter had even more severe financial and marriage problems. And then finally, he got sick himself from stomach cancer. As all his source of comfort, pride, and joy got stripped away, my grandfather’s previously hardened heart slowly began to thaw.

I never got to send that picture to him. But I believe that my grandfather had faith that I would get better, because I had heard that he had already started attending church several months before his death in 2008. And he always did say that he could see how God was blessing my dad’s family, even with my previous condition.

A lot of things ran through my mind as my parents, my uncle, and I stood in front of his grave. My father prayed out loud in thanksgiving for all the hard but wonderful process God had led our family through and the transformation my grandfather had in the final years of his life; then he raised his hands and blessed the one thing my grandfather cared most about: his children and grandchildren. When his voice broke as he prayed, I started crying, too.

  Some time ago, I would have said it was because I missed my grandfather, and the little time we had together without animosity. But that day, I cried because I could see the same burning love my grandfather had for his children in my father. This love for one’s family…it’s powerful. No matter what the conflict and circumstances, blood runs deep.

My parents uprooting weeds, while my uncle wipes the gravestone clean…don’t worry, I helped them out right after this picture. 

This family tie and love is just such a beautiful gift from God. My relatives may be flawed in so many ways, but I have no choice but to love them. And just as my parents, I will pray for them and bless them for as long as I live. After all, apparently we may also be buried in the same spot together here. And our names have all been engraved into a stone. Check this out:
 

This is the back of my grandfather’s gravestone. The engravings has a short clip of my grandfather’s life as the 20th generation of the “Han-San” Lee clan, and the names of all his children and grandchildren. Here’s a close-up:

My name is the second one down. It’s sort of spooky, yet cool, to see my name engraved on a gravestone.

After the visit to my grandfather’s grave, we headed out for lunch at my mother’s favorite restaurant in Korea. It’s a place that specializes in naeng myeon, or Korean cold buckwheat noodles.

I would recommend that you try this if you have never tried it before, but truth be told I’m not a fan of it, because I stubbornly believe noodles taste best hot. But my mother loves this dish the most.

You can get naeng myeon in two main ways: mul (water) naeng myeon, or bibim (mixed) naeng myeon. My mother and uncle ordered the mul naeng myeon:

This is a stainless steel bowl of cold broth made from beef, served with cold buckwheat noodles, cucumber, radishes, and half a hard-boiled egg. You can adjust your own taste by adding mustard, vinegar, or soy sauce.

The noodles are skinny like vermicelli, and very chewy. The soup is really refreshing, too, but also incredibly savory at the same time.

My dad ordered the hwae bibim naeng myeon:

This is the same cold buckwheat noodles, but without the broth. Instead, it is served with a spicy gochujang sauce, marinated raw fish, cucumbers, radish, and hard-boiled egg.

I ordered the wang mandoo (King dumplings):

They are called King Dumplings because of their size. Each is about the size of my middle finger, and trust me, my fingers are longer than the average ones!

They came piping hot out of the steamer, and I had to wait for the steam to cloud away…

And finally, time to dig in!

Each precious pouch was stuffed with pork and various vegetables. So juicy, so good! I don’t care if it’s the hot summer, a meal oughta be hot for me!

The best part of this meal, however, was the drink:

  It’s this cloudy, milky thing served from a kettle into our cups. It sounds weird, but it’s actually broth, made from beef bones. It’s the best medicine ever if you have a cold. It’s so warm and comforting and intensely flavorful! At first I was a bit freaked out that our “water” was so dense and “dirty” though!

So even though I rarely get to see them, I shall still do my part as a family—by praying for them, and blessing them each time I meet them.

Rest in peace, Grandpa. I’ll see you in heaven.

Question of the Day: How often do you meet your relatives? Do you prefer your meal hot or cold? Favorite cold summer dish?

Related posts:

1. Time Travels
2. New Year Self-Reflection Part I: Thanksgiving
3. The Tale of Two Dumplings
4. My Family’s Morning Routine
5. My Parents’ Hometown

Tagged as: buckwheat, dumplings, Korean, noodles, pork