“Through this honest and plain farewell white paper,
“It makes me reflect on the deep meaning of being a mother.”
- Lee Hae-in (nun, poet)

“Remembering my mother,
“It was a matter of remembering love.”
A daughter's diary of condolence for the name she misses most in the world: "Mom."

My mother took her own life at the age of 82.
For the author, who had devoted his entire life to work, his mother's death was the first event that stopped him in his tracks.
He decides to take time to truly mourn his mother, and begins to look back and write down his memories of her, one by one.
The warm memory of the first time I held my mother's hand and went to a Western restaurant, the regret of grumbling indifferently at her affectionate words, and even the sadness I felt when I saw my mother's aged back when we went to the bathhouse together for the first time in a long time.
The writings that I wrote with all my heart were compiled into a book called “In the next life, I will definitely be on my mother’s side.”

For the author, mourning was not the end, but the beginning of living life again.
Looking back on his time with his mother, he realized that we all live toward death, and that the more we look straight at death, the clearer life becomes.
And I realized that the only thing that held me together for the rest of my life was love.
His writings convey the message that a parent's unconditional love remains within us and continues to be a sustaining force in our lives.

This book honestly captures a wide range of emotions toward my mother, from gratitude for always being on my side, to regret for not being able to fully understand her, to regret for not being able to treat her with affection.
The record that makes us look at our mothers in this way goes beyond the author's personal mourning and spreads into a universal longing, ultimately becoming the story of all of us.
After closing the book, we all find ourselves thinking deeply about our own mothers.

There are times when I suddenly want to hear my mother's voice.
The voice of my mother answering “Why~?” when I called her “Mom~”, the nagging she would always give me about not calling her often, the faint laughter she would give me when she was embarrassed, the sound of my mother clapping her hands and saying “Oh my~” when she saw something interesting.
When I hear my mother say, “Are you okay?” which was nothing special, it somehow feels like nothing special will happen, but now I can’t hear it anymore.
--- p.43 From “The Voice I Want to Hear”

I believed that even if she called me “that bad girl” or “that cold girl,” my mom would eventually understand me and always be on my side.
Because I'm a mom...
But in reality, I didn't try to understand my mother or take her side.
Even though I am my mother’s daughter…
--- p.73 From “In the next life, I will definitely be on my mother’s side”

Why does my heart ache so much just by calling her mom, just by thinking about her?
If there are no memories, it is none. If there are many memories, it is many. Why is the existence of a mother so vague?
I miss my mom everywhere.
--- p.152 From “Mother, Whom I Miss Everywhere”

The more time I spend with my father, the more I see his aging and loneliness.
The more closely I observe my father's daily life, the more I realize the inevitable fact that I too will one day become a deaf and lonely old man.
So, even if you don't know, you can't help but be generous when you know.
--- p.188 From "Someday Me Too"

To send my mother off, I desperately needed 'time to mourn properly' rather than 'a proper funeral'.
My mind wandered for a long time as I had to send my mother away unprepared, and I was barely able to hold on to it by writing about my mother's memories whenever my mind wandered.

--- p.205 From “Farewell before the Funeral”