My mother in aging society

By Shim Jae-yun

Most Koreans, living in a rapidly aging society, seem divided over how to spend their life after retirement. Some prefer going to the countryside, eager for nature free from daily stress, while others choose to stay in the city to engage in social activities until they become unable to do so, mentally or physically.

Whatever the case, it is certain that doing something is better than doing nothing. Happiness lies in doing what one wants and considers meaningful, to the extent one’s health permits. Rest is important to recuperate from work fatigue but it is meaningful only when it is temporary. People can remain healthy and retain natural strength when they feel their hearts beat.

My mother was, without doubt, my most loved being until I got married. At that time, it was an extreme nightmare to imagine a world without her, who fed me physically and spiritually. She extended deep trust toward me, inspiring me to do my best against all odds. These days, I sometimes tell my wife, “You are the one I love most in the world.” Frankly speaking, however, I do not know my own mind exactly regarding who I love more between the two women. Anyhow, I seem to be a very happy man to be loved by such magnificent women.

My greatest regret about my mother, however, has been the fact she still works, sewing at a small family-owned factory. I and my younger brother and elder sister frequently tell her to quit, but to no avail. She says she enjoys the work and feels sick unless she does it. At work, she can chat with her companions and what makes her even more passionate is that she can give pocket money to her cute grandchildren.

There was an event that prompted me to stop asking my mother to leave her job. Some months ago I dropped by a humble eatery in a conventional market and was served “kalguksu” (knife-cut noodles) by the proprietor, aged 73, the same age as my mom.

Mindful of my mother, I asked whether her offspring encouraged her to quit her job. As I expected she said that they, mostly in their 50s with stable incomes and societal status, continued to ask her to stop. She said there had been two other elderly women working nearby who were told to quit by their children. Her next remark was shocking, “The two complied with their demands to stop. But they both died only one or two years after.”

From that time on, her son and daughter never asked her to quit. Instead, in token of their filial piety, they arranged overseas travel for their mom, providing her with spending money. While telling the story, she seemed quite happy and full of energy. I decided to follow suit for the sake of my mother’s health and happiness.

They say a person’s average longevity will reach 100 in the very near future. Given the average retirement age of 60, we will live another 40 years after quitting our current jobs. Against this backdrop, how to spend our post-retirement life has been the talk of the town.

It is a pity to see elderly citizens struggling for livelihood, including those who need to pick up newspapers on the subway. So it is fortunate to see President Park Geun-hye focusing on welfare for such underprivileged people, providing a minimum 200,000 won (approximately $180) monthly allowance for each elderly citizen on the poverty line, despite lingering controversy over the possible provision of budget from the national pension.

Sometimes I feel tempted to escape from my tiring daily work to take a holiday for as long as possible. But given the possible long period of my “holiday” after retirement, I come to be grateful for my current job. I am not sure what to do after retirement. What is certain is that I will need something to do, rather than doing nothing and spending the rest of my life lazily. It would be better for me to do something worthwhile for the benefit of other people, as my mother has so far done for her family members and neighbors.