Please Look After Mom by Shin Kyung-Sook — A Book Review

This book as a whole provides a strong portrayal of various aspects of Korean life, particularly within the context of family. It delves into traditional roles, especially the roles of a mother and father within a family. The narrative explores the lives of a traditionally married couple, a family at an early age and having four children.

The story unfolds as it recounts the sudden disappearance of the Mom from a family while she and her husband are at Seoul Station. The Mom vanishes from the father’s view, leading to a mysterious loss of her presence. In their quest to find her, the children resort to various actions — posting flyers, reporting to the police, visiting every place their Mom might have gone, and more.

Throughout the journey of this book, the perspective shifts among different characters that reflects in each sub-chapter, which characters associated with the Mom: the eldest daughter, the eldest son, the father, the father’s sister, the youngest son, and the youngest daughter. Each of them experiences the loss, and a new understanding of the Mom emerges. They reflect on how they have overlooked all the things the Mom has done, from every small memory they recall about her how she shaped each of their lives.

How well do you know your Mom?

From the first chapters, I reflect on the perpetual question sparks from this book. Is Mom only identified as a “Mom”? With all the roles that attached to a Mother; preparing foods, “probably drying ferns; since its Sunday, she must be at Church.”, cleaning house, birthing her children and taught them while her husband working to gain some money;

Suddenly when she’s no longer there with you physically and emotionally, you asked yourself, “Do I really know my Mom?”

“Either a mother and daughter know each other very well, or they are strangers.”

Imagine how you spent all your life with your Mom, yet she’s given you merely half of her existence. Where does the uncharted half of her life unfold? Can you paint the portrait of her at your age? Do you know what she was look like at your age?

You reckon you know your Mom entirely— what she likes, the triggers that stir her, and the words that resonate with her soul. But what if what you know are the facets she discovered only upon having you? What defines her identity beyond the role of being a mom?

The word “Mom”

This book profoundly moves my soul and how the word “Mom” truly holds a multitude of meanings. When the embodiment of “Mom” is a beacon of extraordinary meaning in my existence. The very essence of the word “Mom” encompasses every intricate side of my life.

Mom knows me too well that I don’t need to ask her twice but she did everything beforehands. Mom is a person full of flaws, but she’s still the one I remember first. In times of want, when sickness brushes close, or a sudden hush takes hold, “Mom!” springs forth — a poetic reflex, a whispered charm in the rythm of every moment of my life.

This book recalls every little memory I’ve traversed, each story seen through the eyes that name her “Mom”, making me feel that the word “Mom” itself holds countless meaning beyond words.

The word “Mom” is familiar and it hides a plea: Please look after me. Please stop yelling at me and stroke my head; please be on my side, whether I’m right or wrong.

“Mom”, a word that weaves a spell of safety, a person whose strength shields everyone around her, just as she’s always been for you. In the quiet night, beneath her bed, secret rests — a treasure trove safeguarding our well-being, whispered assurances in the stillness. You realized then, your Mom is all you need in the end of the day.

She was once a daughter, a sister, a person, too.

To you, Mom was always Mom. It never occurred to you that she had once taken her first step, or had once been three or twelve years old. Mom was mom. She was born as mom.

When the Mom disappeared in the book, the elder daughter then recalled how her Mom turned out to have a softer side in the presence of her Mom’s older brother, her uncle. And it had yet to occur the daughter that Mom, too, was a soul traversing the tapestry of human emotions — who harbored the exact same feelings the daughter had for her own brothers; Mom had a past, a childhood; a portrait of her as a child, a girl, a young woman, a newlywed, and a mother freshly embracing the joys of new life painted itself in the daugther’s mind.

This led me to memories of my own Mom. Like a silent poet, she often gets her tears flow in the quiet moments of remembering her own mother (my grandmother). My Mom, too, had once been a little daughter, just as I am to her now and then. Like a small echo longing for the reassurance of a mother’s embrace, my Mom also needs her Mom.

The essence of motherhood, as I realize, stretches beyond the conventional depiction canvas of what people always say about them. Mom always portrayed as a figure of sacrifice and enduring strength, and also as one who finds solace in her child’s happiness. But what about her own happiness? When the label “Mother” is attached to women, it’s like her own dreams fade away, like mist clearing in the morning — kind of slipping away, even from her own view.

The time when she becomes a Mom, she lets go of her dreams, and herself. Yet, a Mom also yearns for the solace of her mother’s presence. Aching for the tender embrace, the lullabies that once painted the canvas of her nights. A Mom, too, was a fleeting little daughter, seeking the comfort of her mother’s lap, from the loss of her own meaning.

She takes the blue plastic sandals off my feet and pulls my feet into her lap. Mom doesn’t smile. She doesn’t cry. Did Mom know? That I, too, needed her in my entire life. — from the POV of the “Mom” on the book.

Toward the end chapters of this book, the children and everyone else are left with the awareness that Mom is nowhere to be found. “Mom went missing, yet life continues to unfold”.

The rythm of existence remains unaltered, but each person linked to Mom carries different perspectives, feelings and point of views. Moments with Mom spontaneously resurface in varied, unexpected instances, creating a tapestry of memories, each woven into different times.

This mirrors the portrayal of grief for a cherished presence in our lives. I have navigated the ache of loss in certain chapters of my life, realizing how losing someone I love prompts a vivid recollection of their every nuance when they were still by our side.

Only after Mom went missing did you realize that her stories were piled inside you, in endless stacks. Mom’s everyday life used to go on in a repeating loop, without a break. Her everyday words, which you didn’t think deeply about and sometimes dismissed as useless when she was with you, awoke in your heart, creating tidal waves.

It makes me think about her own story, too.

“Mom” embodies more than just what they do for our lives; it’s about them, their life story, too. Mothers are always associated to a role deemed “natural” or “expected” especially for women who embark on the journey of motherhood.

Then, these questions surface in the mind;

Should a Mom surrender her essence entirely to this role as a Mom? Should a Mom’s existence dedicated to other people but her? Should a Mom always have to bear every burden with unwavering strength? Should a Mom be a resilient figure who seems to have no conditions that make her weak?

Mom is a creation of strength, resilience, self-sacrifice, and all the “heroic” qualities portrayed in life’s canvas. Yet, within her beats the heart of a human, a small girl, a sister, a tender soul — an individual with a narrative beyond the confines of the label “Mother”.

So, please look after Mom.