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Food as a Love Language
My mother and I seldom say "I love you." I sit at the dinner table at my mom’s call, greeted by a plate of grilled mackerel and a tupperware with kimchi. I’m soon served with a bowl of rice, more than I can consume. Her chopsticks reach over, dropping a piece of mackerel on my rice until my bowl is devoid of white. In return, with each bite I take, I mimic her actions, sharing a piece of mackerel to get her to eat. Her untouched rice remains, with my single mackerel at its center, a silent testament to her fullness. Now, as I sit in my room, there's a gentle knock at the door. A plate of meticulously peeled and diced peaches, a gesture of love from my mother.
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Korean parents have a tendency to "seem full" from watching their children eat even though they barely touched their food. I specifically talked about the times I eat mackerel with my mom. As a child I've always remembered my parents always putting me before them, proceeding to place pieces of mackerel they cut with their chopsticks onto my bowl of rice. Even to this age, my parent's love is shown through food. She would wake up at 5 or 6 a.m. to cook and pack my lunch for school, making what seems to have taken hours to cook for me to eat after swim practice, and proceeding to cut me fruits to eat while doing my homework. I've always respected and loved my mother for this.