Ch'usok

While there were no hanboks donned by the boys nor rice cakes whipped up in our kitchen, our family celebrated Ch'usok (aka Korean Thanksgiving) in our own little way last Thursday evening. Leisurely we strolled to Vander Veer Park, marveling in the beauty of the full Harvest Moon as it battled the cloudy night. There was to be a picnic of sorts and we came armed with all kinds of typically forbidden goodies: Candy corn, suckers, sugared orange slices, and chocolate covered peanuts. Not quite traditional Korean delicacies but when you are six and three (or 34 and 37) and allowed unlimited access to sugar treats, free of guilt, who really cares? "I love the Harvest Moon," Russell continuously repeated. I did too, and I questioned why we had previously never gone out of our way to view the moon in all her splendor. Definitely a new tradition.

Perhaps the most vital component in celebrating Ch'usok is paying homage to one's ancestors. Friday afternoon after pulling together the remnants of what is blooming in our backyard into Ch'usok bouquets, the boys, Lucia, and I traveled to Arsenal Island where many of our friends and relatives, including Uncle Russ and Aunt Margaret and Jared's paternal grandparents, Leo and Norma, have been laid to rest.

A graveside service was being completed as we drove into the cemetery and we were given a first hand look at what occurs after mourners have loaded back into their cars and driven away.  It was sobering to observe something so sacred. A bystander watching men beginning the process of hoisting the casket containing the body of someone's loved one onto a metal apparatus, soon to be delivered back into the earth. But then within minutes, music stemming from bagpipes erupted and a lone man marched around the area where the casket had lain, playing song after song. Sad and beautiful all at the same time.

Honoring our Dead

May Their Memories Be Eternal!