My parents, who had been working in parcel delivery support for the past two years, no longer have reason to come to Songdo, so I haven’t had many chances to see them lately. Today, I visited their home with Sion for the first time in a long while. My father, in particular, seemed to have lost much of his energy. After playing briefly with his youngest grandson, he quickly went into his room to lie down, or sat silently beside the child, staring blankly without saying a word. At first, I felt a bit irritated by this, but as time passed and I reflected, I felt truly saddened and decided to write this down. Coincidentally, while listening to Pastor Kim Ki-seok of Cheongpa Church’s lecture on human relationships on the YouTube channel ‘Jaljaljal’, which answers life’s questions from a biblical perspective, I gained some insights. This led me to deeply consider my father and many other elderly people suffering from depression.

While the elderly inevitably become socially and economically vulnerable, some adapt to new routines and live happily. Yet I suspect most either long for their past lives or remain trapped within outdated paradigms. While anyone might miss past positions or roles, if one cannot forget the glory and privileges enjoyed back then after retirement, pessimistically viewing their current situation, or yearns for the power wielded within complex human relationships, that image inevitably appears ugly. This is easily seen in the figures of corrupt politicians or businesspeople frequently appearing in the media.

I believe we must now become the protagonists of our own lives, starting anew with what we can do—even if it feels a bit awkward—and enjoying role-playing like a ‘side character’ within new relationships. Being called by a more familiar, affectionate name and finding satisfaction in small joys is a healthier, more beautiful way to live than clinging to grand titles like ‘CEO’ or ‘Chairman’. In that sense, my mother, living her second life as a senior barista, is truly admirable and a source of pride.

Today, I felt a stark warning: that future could be mine—a future of excessive self-pity and compassion, or one trapped in past wounds, comforting myself as the most pitiful person, severing ties, and retreating into a cave of helpless stubbornness. Today, I rose at dawn again, listened to an audiobook while handling carrot delivery work, prepared for worship, and wrote this. I sent my mother her favorite fruits and honeycomb honey by courier, and she was overjoyed—which made me happy too.