My father passed away quite early. I was about 50 days old when the accident happened. He was driving a small Daewoo Tico (tiny 800cc engine) from Busan to Jeomchon to visit his parents, when he collided head-on with a truck driver that had mistakenly crossed the centerline. It was a hit-and-run, and my father became paralyzed neck down. The culprit was never found, and my mom nursed my father for five years without showing any signs of hardship or complaint. It must have been around March 2001 when he passed away.
The memories of my father are surprisingly clear, but unfortunately there simply weren’t enough to replace his physical absence. The feeling of his stubble beard against my face, the yellow feeding tube, the bed sheets embroidered with the hospital logo and intricate lines, the metronome of a gigantic machine installed next to his bed (a heart rate monitor perhaps?) are still vividly etched in memory. The silver lining was my youth that allowed me to quickly adapt and interpret death as optimistically as I could. I learned very early that life is merciless and continues to march on.
My father was a sailor. After graduating from the Maritime University in Mokpo, he crossed the Pacific Ocean dozens of times transporting cargo for a non-profit organization. He loved adventure more than anyone else and for an ordinary kid who grew up in the countryside of Gyeongsangbuk-do, he had a unique perspective on the world and had accumulated quite a bit of enriching experiences.
It must have been the last few days that I felt the allure of the sea for the first time. In the fishing boat galloping across the unforgiving waters off the coast of Alaska, my mind drifted deep in thought. What did my father contemplate during the lengthy voyage spanning several months across the expansive sea? What were his dreams and motivations? Was the uncertainty about the future accompanied by fear? Did he have any regrets and what were his plans for the next 5, 10, 20 years? Did he often think about the loved ones he left behind during his long trips? Was he ever afraid that his passion for his craft would slowly dwindle over time? Looking at me now, what will my father think?
In some ways, I feel like I've experienced a life of struggle, while in other ways, I feel like I've lived a life with excessive blessings. There have been countless failures and frequent periods of stagnation, doubt, and complacency. However, bad or good, sad or happy, I want to embrace whatever life throws at me, in its purest, most unfiltered form. I firmly believe that with more experiences you gather, your character becomes stronger and more resilient, exuding an unwavering and vibrant presence. Perhaps that very belief was also what had motivated my father to relentlessly pursue and grapple with everything that life had to offer.
아버지는 꽤 일찍 세상을 떠나셨다. 사고가 일어난 지는 내가 50일조차 안 됐을 때였다. 조그마한 티코를 몰고 부산에서 문경까지 본가를 뵈러 운전하는 중이었고 중앙선을 침범한 화물차 기사와 정면으로 충돌했다. 사고는 뺑소니로 간주되었고 아버지는 전신 마비를 겪으셨다. 범인은 결국 찾지 못하였고 엄마는 힘든 내색 없이 5년 동안 묵묵히 아버지를 간호하셨다. 2001년 3월 쯤이었을 거다... 아버지가 돌아가신 때가.
아버지에 대한 기억은 놀라울 정도로 뚜렷하지만, 아쉽게도 그의 부재를 메우기엔 부족했다. 하지만 나이가 어린만큼 난 빨리 적응했고 죽음도 내 방식대로 나름 긍정적으로 해석했다. 매정하게도 삶은 빠른 속도로 다시 재개되었다.
아버지는 항해사셨다. 목포에 위치한 해양대학교를 졸업한 뒤 태평양을 수십 번이나 가로질렀으며 그 누구보다 모험을 좋아하셨다. 경상북도 시골에서 자란 평범한 아이였지만 세상에 대한 관점이 독특했고 경험도 풍부했다.
바다의 매력을 새삼 처음으로 느낀 건 아마 최근 며칠이 아닐까 싶다. 수면을 가로지르며 질주하는 어선 속에서 나는 자연스레 생각에 잠겼다. 광활한 바닷속 몇 달 간의 긴 여정 동안 아버지는 무슨 생각을 했을까? 그의 꿈과 동기는 무엇이었을까? 미래에 대한 불확실성은 과연 두려움으로 다가왔을까? 후회되는 일들은 있었으며 앞날에 대한 계획은 무엇이었을까? 지금의 나를 바라보며 아버지가 어떤 생각을 할까?
어떤 면에선 고군분투한 삶을 산 것 같고 어떤 면에선 너무나도 순조롭고 지나치게 축복받은 삶을 살아온 것 같기도 하다. 셀 수도 없이 많은 실패를 했고 나약하고 어두운 침체기도 빈번했다. 하지만 나의 나침반은 항상 인생에서 가능한 한 많은 경험을 쌓는 것을 가리키며 나아가게 했다. 나쁘거나 좋던, 슬픈 것이나 기쁜 것이든, 삶이 나에게 무엇을 던지던, 그대로 받아들이며 최대한 순수한 감정을 느끼고 싶다. 경험이 쌓이고 쌓이면 알찬 내면을 가진, 빛나는 사람이 되는 것을 난 확신한다. 아버지도 바로 그 신념이 당신을 움직이게한 원동력이 아니었을까.
