[월:] 2016년 12월

( 이 시를 지난 35년여 내 삶의 일부였던 사랑하는 장모에게 드립니다)
 
날개 옷

이민 삼십년에 이골이 난 내 다림질
그 솜씨로 장모 수의를 다린다.

먼저 버선을 다린다

땅과 하늘 사이 때론
어제와 오늘 사이를 헤매이던 마지막 시간에
장모는 엄마를 부르곤 했다
“엄마가 엄마를 찾으니까 내가 아파”
아내는 엄마를 부르는 장모를 말하며 눈가를 훔쳤다
분단은 남북만 가른 것이 아니었다
북쪽 가족들과 갈라져 남쪽에 홀로남은 장모 나이 고작 열 두살
애초 홀로는 아니었다
고향으로 가겠다며 국군에 입대한 스무살 오빠가 다시는 돌아오지 않았을 뿐
그날 이후 장모는 엄마를 찾지 않았단다
마지막 시간속을 헤매던 장모는 버선발로 다가오는 엄마를 보았을 터

치마를 다린다.

치마는 장모의 자존이었다
열두살 이후 홀로된 외로움을 감싸는 갑옷이었다
열 여덟에 하나되어 육십갑자 세월을 함께 한 장인은 외아들
거기에 호랑이 같은 홀시어머니와 시누이 셋
엄마를 찾지 않았던 장모는 어느새 엄마가 되어갔다
딸 하나 아들 둘
누구랄 것 없이 모두 한수에 더해 끼 넘치는 가족이었지만
문제 없었다
장모의 치마는 모든 것을 감쌀만큼 폭이 넉넉했으므로
허나, 못내 치마 속에 감쌀 수 없는 외로움은 가슴에 숨겼을 터

이제 저고리를 다린다

언젠간 꼭 만나고 말리라
옷고름 매주고 옷깃 여며주던 엄마
장모의 꿈은 끝내 이루지지 않았다
마지막 순간 장모는 꿈을 바꾸었다
내가 엄마가 되리라고
일흔 여덟해의 마지막 한 달
장모는 그저 엄마였다
장인과 두 아들과 며느리들 딸과 사위에게
엄마를 가슴에 아프게 품지 말라고
행여
살아있는 너희들은
외로움과 그리움
그 암덩어리 안고 살지 말라고
장모는 저고리 섶에 우리들의 몫을 그렇게 저미고 갔을 터

마지막 두루마기를 다린다

평안북도 정주 아낙 최용옥
아무렴 한반도 믿음의 성지 정주 땅인데
장모는 평생 믿음의 두루마기를 걸치고 살았다

믿음 아니면 그 외로움 어찌 삭혔으랴
기도 아니면 그 긴 기다림 어찌 이어 왔으랴
찬송 아니면 그 먼 길 어찌 걸어 왔으랴

이제 내가 꿈을 꾼다
꿈이 기도가 된다
무릇 모든 기도는 이미 이루어진 것들 뿐

내가 다린 옷들은 장모의 날개가 된다
날아 날아 날아 훨훨
기다리던 엄마의 손을 잡았다

아! 이제
모녀는 하늘문을 들어섰다

이민 삼십년 도 닦듯 익힌 내 다림질
용 한번 썼다

(I dedicate this poem to my beloved Mother-in-law who was a part of my life for 35 years.)
 
Wings of Clothes

My press, a tired routine of daily life as an immigrant for thirty years,
With the skill, I’m pressing Mother-in-law’s shroud.

First, I press beoseon¹.

Between earth and heaven, sometimes
At the last moment, wandering between yesterday and today,
Mother-in-law called for mom.
“As Mom’s looking for her mom, it breaks my heart,”
Wife says, as she wipes tears from her face.
Division did not cut just the country into the South and the North.
Only twelve years old was Mother-in-law, when she became alone in the South, separated from her family in the North.
She was not alone from the start.
It’s because her twenty-year-old brother never returned after joining the army with the hope to go to their hometown.
Mother-in-law had not looked for her mom since then.
I believe that while wandering at the last moment, she must have seen her mom running to her with stockings on her feet.

I press a skirt.

Skirts were Mother-in-law’s pride.
They were the armor to cover her loneliness since she became alone at twelve.
The only son in the family was Father-in-law, with whom she was with for the sexagenary cycle from the age of eighteen.
Her tigerish mother-in-law and three sisters-in-law added to her life.
Mother-in-law, who had not looked for her mom, became a mom herself:
One daughter and two sons.
Though all of them were full of talents and fun,
There was no problem,
Because Mother-in-law’s skirts were wide enough to envelop everything and everyone.
However, her loneliness, which could not be enfolded under them, was hidden in her heart.

Now, I press a jeogori².

Mother-in-law felt that she would never fail to see her mom again someday,
Who had tied her jeogori string and adjusted her clothes.
Mother-in-law’s lifelong dream was never realized.
At the last moment, she changed her dream,
For herself to become a mother.
In the last month of her seventy-eighth year,
Mother-in-law was simply a mother.
For Father-in-law, two sons and daughters-in-law, a daughter and a son-in-law,
Not to hold her in their hearts painfully,
By any chance,
For all of you, who are alive,
Not to live with that cancer of
Tormenting loneliness and yearning,
Mother-in-law must have left us with taking our shares in the gusset of her jeogori.

Last, I press a durumagi³.

Yong-ok Choi, a village woman of Jeongju, North Pyeongan Province,
Jeongju, certainly a shrine of faith in the Korean peninsula,
Mother-in-law had lived in the durumagi³ of faith all her life.

How could she have appeased such loneliness without faith?
How could she have kept enduring such an agonizingly long wait without prayers?
How could she have walked such a long way without hymns?
Now I’m dreaming.
Dreams become prayers.
In general, all prayers are for what has already been realized.

Clothes I have pressed become Mother-in-law’s wings.
Fly, fly, and fly freely.
She holds the hands of her mother who has been waiting for her.

Ah! Now,
Mother and Daughter enter through the gate of heaven.

My pressing skill which I have practiced as if cultivating myself spiritually during the thirty years of my immigrant life

1. beoseon: Korean traditional socks 

    2. jeogori: The upper garment of Korean traditional clothes for women

   3. durumagi: a traditional Korean outer coat