Publisher's Note — The Father Was, Again, Outside the Camera — by Sylvia Kim
In twenty-six years I have done so many interviews. But it is rare for my heart to race before one even begins. This was one of those times. Fifteen years ago, two children appeared on the cover of Mom&i — a brother and sister in swimsuits, braces on their teeth, seated beside their mother. They have come back: a young man who graduated Harvard and now works at a world-class investment firm in Manhattan, and a spirited woman building a career at UTA, one of Hollywood's top agencies in LA.

But on the day of the interview, their mother told me something. That this was not an ordinary interview day. They had just placed their father's ashes in the columbarium, and were coming here on the way. For three years after he passed, the family kept him at home — out of the ache of a father who left this world without ever living in a big house. Only after three years could they finally see him off. On that day, this family came to this studio.
To gather again, on the day they sent off their father, in the very place they shot that cover fifteen years ago. Coincidence, or destiny? I believe it was destiny. The man who laminated "The Road to Harvard" and pinned it to his children's desk must have known this place, even on his last road.
Throughout the interview one thought never left me. In that cover fifteen years ago, the father was everything. And now — the mother was doing the father's part too. That was this family's story. That was the whole of this article.
To everyone reading this. To those who are struggling now, to those raising children and unsure "am I doing this right" — I hope this family's story becomes a small comfort, a small strength.
No one they knew, a single room
This family did not come to America out of comfort. Father Lim had run a business in Korea leasing seventy-seven buildings. When money came in, he invested in a health-drink venture, on the verge of going on LG Home Shopping. But the night before, the 9 p.m. news broke that E. coli had been found in a competitor's product. The next morning the call came: the broadcast was off. The business collapsed. The lease market turned. They decided: rather than struggle in Korea, go to America.
Around then, the father laminated a sheet of paper and pinned it before the children's desk — from when Leo was five, six years old. It read "The Road to Harvard."
"I said back then — we're not some fortune, how does Harvard make sense? And he said he was sending this kid to Harvard. I got chills, truly. How did he know?"
The family came with no one they knew, no money. An acquaintance met them at the airport — a person who ran a facial shop, where Jaehee Lee began to work. Hearing only that the schools were good, they went straight to Tenafly. Four of them moved into a single one-bedroom apartment. With one room, they couldn't give the children a room. The whole family slept in the living room.
"Someone told me — there are four of you, you need to make $4,000 a month, you should live in a two-bedroom. We were in a one-bedroom. In the end that became our inheritance. Later my son said he wants to raise his own children in one room. He knows how precious it is."
Fifteen years ago — the father was everything
When they first came, the mother cared for the children and the father worked. But his income alone wasn't enough. The couple discussed it: one works, one cares for the children properly. Jaehee had studio experience; she was confident in service work. So the roles flipped entirely. The mother went out to work, and the father took full charge of the children. That decision made this family.
The father had not a single day off. He took the children to the library every day. When the Tenafly library closed at five, he searched — barely able to read English, combing American newspapers — for libraries across Bergen County open until eight. In summer they sat from 9 a.m. until closing. There wasn't a librarian in Bergen County who didn't know these two.
"He took them out without even feeding them lunch. Because, he said, once you go home you don't want to leave again. So he spread jam on bread, fed them on a bench, and went back in to read."
The father was a poet, a member of the Korean literary circle. He sat beside the children and read, too. Baseball came first, but there was racism — however well an Asian kid pitched, they wouldn't play him. So he switched to swimming. Swimming is times. Records. No one can play favorites. From then the father became "Coach Lim," pushing the children harder than the official coaches. On dawn-practice days he rose before them and started the car outside, so it would be warm when they got in. For meets three, four hours away, he made CDs in advance — songs he loved, a pastor's sermons. They drove listening to them. Leo and Cleopatra still love old songs; what they heard in that car remains.
The mother's memory of that time is simple. "I just worked." She set out breakfast, left for work, came home at nine or ten to find the children doing homework after swim. "Mom barely has memories. Because she was working," Cleopatra said. At that, Jaehee laughed — and didn't laugh.

"Why is my fate like this"
Tenafly was not an easy town. As good as the schools were, the competition was fierce, the rich kids many. However well you did in school, you couldn't join their circle.
"I really asked why we came to America. If I'd stayed in Korea, kids would've looked up to me for studying well. Four, five hours of exercise, home late, then homework. A twelve-year-old wondering, why is my fate like this." — Cleopatra
Jaehee laughed hearing it. Laughed, but her eyes were different. "I told you then — just hold on a little. In high school your true worth will show." And it did. "In high school the kids carried my backpack. I told my mom — it's my turn. Mom, I'm sorry." Jaehee waved a hand. "Sorry, nothing."
Leo struggled too. "For me, swimming well or badly was just life or death. For my friends, it was fine either way if they had money or connections. For me it was everything." There was free lunch at school; afraid it would wound the children's pride, Jaehee gave them $5 each day. How big that $5 was then. The children went happily, never knowing. What those years left the two was a sense that family is everything. "Only the four of us could understand us. Family is absolutely number one." — Leo
Now the mother, the father's part too
In that cover fifteen years ago, the father was everything. From dawn to night beside the children. Starting the car. Feeding bread on a library bench. But now, in this place, the father was not here. And the mother, Jaehee, was filling the father's place too.
The father passed three and a half years ago, of colon cancer. When they found it, it was terminal. The doctor said six months. He lived five more years. "His mental strength was so strong. Through the illness he barely expressed that it was hard. He endured a lot to make it easier on us." — Leo. Even in that painful time he had things he wanted — to give talks, to publish a book. He couldn't. The family kept him at home for three years after he passed. And just today — the day of this interview — they placed his ashes in the columbarium, and came here on the way. To the very place they shot that cover fifteen years ago, on the day they sent him off. It cannot be coincidence.
"How good it would have been to leave more of it on the record. Now these two have to tell those stories." — Jaehee Lee
Closing
As the three left the studio, I watched their backs a moment. Mother and the two siblings, walking side by side. Fifteen years ago it was the same: mother in the center, the two children on either side. That composition hadn't changed. But something had. Fifteen years ago the father held up these three from outside the camera. Now the mother holds up that place too. The father's part, alone.
The father went to the columbarium today. On that road, he stopped here, where they shot the cover fifteen years ago. It cannot be coincidence. The man who laminated the road to Harvard would have known this place even on his last road. Sleeping all together in a one-bedroom living room. Starting the car at dawn. Bread on a library bench. The songs on the CDs. All of it became an inheritance. And the mother is carrying it on now. The father's part too.

Mom&i met this family again after fifteen years. And we will remember them for a long, long time.
Leo (Jiwoo Lim) is at Point72 Asset Management (New York); Cleopatra (Chaewon Lim) is at UTA (United Talent Agency, Los Angeles), each carrying on their own dream.
Highlights
• "I got chills. He laminated 'The Road to Harvard' and pinned it up. How did he know?" — Jaehee Lee
• "He spread jam on bread, fed them on a bench, and went back in to read." — Jaehee Lee
• "In high school the kids carried my backpack. I told my mom — it's my turn. Mom, I'm sorry." — Cleopatra
• "Only the four of us could understand us. Family is absolutely number one." — Leo
———
발행인의 글 — 아빠는 오늘, 카메라 밖에 다시 계셨다 — 실비아 김
26년을 해오면서, 나는 참 많은 인터뷰를 했다. 그런데 이번처럼 인터뷰가 시작되기도 전에 가슴이 먼저 뛰는 경우는 많지 않았다. 15년 전, 맘앤아이 표지에 나왔던 그 두 아이가 돌아왔다. 교정기를 끼고 수영복을 입고 엄마 옆에 앉아 사진을 찍던 그 남매가, 이제 하버드를 나와 맨해튼의 세계적인 투자사에서 일하는 청년과, LA에서 UTA에서 커리어를 쌓아가는 당찬 여성이 되어 다시 이 스튜디오에 들어섰다.
그런데 인터뷰 당일, 나는 한 가지를 들었다. 그날이 단순한 인터뷰 날이 아니라는 것을. 아버지의 유골을 납골당에 모시고, 그 길에 이 스튜디오로 오시는 거라고. 아버지가 돌아가신 후 3년 동안, 가족은 아버지를 집에 모셨다. 큰 집 한 번 살아보시지 못하고 가신 아버지에 대한 아픔 때문에. 그 3년이 지나서야 비로소 배웅을 드리는 날. 그 날 이 가족이 이 스튜디오에 왔다.
15년 전 표지를 찍었던 이 자리에서, 아버지를 배웅하는 날 다시 모인 것이. 우연일까, 필연일까. 나는 필연이라고 생각한다. 하버드 가는 길을 코팅해서 붙여두던 분이, 마지막 길에도 이 자리를 알고 계셨기 때문이 아닐까. 인터뷰를 하면서 내내 한 가지 생각이 머릿속을 떠나지 않았다. 15년 전 그 표지에서는 아빠가 모든 것이었다. 그리고 지금은 — 엄마가 아빠의 몫까지 하고 있었다. 그것이 이 가족의 이야기였다.
아는 사람 하나 없이, 방 한 칸으로
아버지 임 씨는 한국에서 건물 77채를 임대하는 사업을 했다. 돈이 들어오자 생식 건강 음료 사업에 투자했고, LG 홈쇼핑에 나갈 날을 앞두고 있었다. 그런데 딱 그 전날 밤 9시 뉴스에 타사 제품에서 대장균이 검출됐다는 소식이 터졌다. 다음 날 아침 전화가 왔다. 방송 못 나간다고. 그렇게 사업이 무너졌다. 한국에서 힘들게 사느니 미국으로 가자 — 그렇게 결정이 났다. 그 무렵 아버지는 아이들 책상 앞에 종이 한 장을 코팅해서 붙여두었다. '하버드 가는 길'이었다.
"제가 그때 말했어요. 우리가 무슨 떼부자도 아닌데 하버드가 말이 되냐고. 그랬더니 아빠가 얘 하버드 보낼 거라고 하시는 거야. 소름이 끼쳤어요, 정말. 사람 일을 어떻게 알았을까."
가족은 아는 사람 하나 없이, 돈 한 푼 없이 미국으로 왔다. 학군이 좋다는 소리만 듣고 Tenafly로 곧장 들어갔다. 원베드룸 아파트 하나에 네 식구가 들어갔다. 방이 하나니까 가족 모두 거실에서 잤다.
"우리는 1베드였는데. 그게 결국 유산이 됐어요. 나중에 우리 아들이 그러는 거예요. 자기도 결혼하면 방 한 칸에서 아이들 키우고 싶다고. 그게 얼마나 소중한 건지 아는 거죠."
15년 전 — 아빠가 모든 것이었다
부부가 의논했다. 한 사람은 일하고, 한 사람은 아이들을 제대로 케어하자. 그래서 어머니가 나가서 일하고, 아버지가 아이들을 전담했다. 그 결정이 이 가족을 만들었다. 아버지는 쉬는 날이 하나도 없었다. 아이들을 데리고 매일 도서관에 갔다. Tenafly 도서관이 5시에 문을 닫으면, 영어도 잘 못하면서 미국 신문을 뒤져가며 8시까지 여는 곳을 찾아갔다.
"점심도 안 먹이고 나간 거예요. 집에 들어오면 다시 나가기 싫어진다고. 그래서 빵에 잼 발라가지고 벤치에서 먹이고 다시 들어가서 책 보는 거야."
아버지는 시인이었다. 야구를 먼저 시켰는데 인종차별이 있었다. 아시안 아이가 아무리 잘 던져도 써주지 않았다. 그래서 수영으로 바꿨다. 수영은 타임이니까. 아무도 편애할 수 없으니까. 그때부터 아버지는 '임코치'가 됐다. 새벽 수영 연습이 있는 날이면 아버지는 아이들보다 먼저 일어나 밖에 나가서 차 시동을 켜두었다. 아이들이 탔을 때 차 안이 따뜻하도록. 시합으로 3-4시간을 운전할 때면 미리 CD를 만들어왔다. 어머니의 그 시절 기억은 단순하다. "저는 일만 했는데요."
"내 팔자 왜 이래"
"왜 미국 왔냐고 했어요, 진짜. 4-5시간 운동하고 집에 늦게 들어와서 숙제 시작하고. 12살짜리가 내 팔자 왜 이러지 싶었죠." — Cleopatra
이재희 씨가 그 말을 들으며 웃었다. "내가 그때 말했잖아. 조금만 참아. 고등학교 가면 너의 진가가 나올 거야." 정말로 그렇게 됐다.
"고등학교 가니까 애들이 책가방 들어줬어요. 그때 엄마한테 말했죠. 내 차례야. 엄마 미안해." — Cleopatra
Leo도 힘들었다. "저한테는 수영 잘하고 못하고가 그냥 life or death였어요." 학교 무료급식이 있었지만 어머니는 아이들 자존심 상할까봐 5불씩 매일 줬다. 그 시절이 두 남매에게 남긴 것은 가족이 전부라는 감각이었다. "우리를 이해할 수 있는 건 네 명뿐이었으니까. 가족이 무조건 넘버원이에요." — Leo
지금은 엄마가, 아빠의 몫까지
15년 전 그 표지에서는 아버지가 모든 것이었다. 그런데 지금 이 자리에 아버지는 없었다. 그리고 어머니가 아버지의 자리까지 채우고 있었다. 아버지는 3년 반 전에 대장암으로 돌아가셨다. 발견했을 때 말기였다. 의사가 6개월이라고 했다. 그런데 5년을 더 사셨다.
"멘탈이 너무 강하셨어요. 힘들다는 표현을 거의 안 하셨어요. 우리한테 쉽게 하시려고 많이 참으신 거죠." — Leo
가족은 아버지가 돌아가신 후 3년을 집에서 모셨다. 그리고 바로 오늘 — 인터뷰가 있는 이 날 — 아버지의 유골을 납골당에 모시고, 그 길에 이 스튜디오로 오셨다. 15년 전 표지를 찍었던 이 자리에, 아버지를 배웅하는 날 다시 왔다. 우연일 리 없다.
"기록에 더 많이 남겼었으면 얼마나 좋았을까. 그 스토리들을 이제 이 두 사람이 풀어야겠네요." — 어머니 이재희
클로징
인터뷰를 마치고 세 사람이 스튜디오 문을 나설 때, 나는 잠깐 그 뒷모습을 봤다. 어머니와 두 남매. 나란히 걷는 세 사람. 15년 전 표지에서도 그랬다. 엄마가 가운데, 두 아이가 양옆. 그 구도는 달라지지 않았다. 그런데 달라진 게 있었다. 15년 전에는 아빠가 카메라 밖에서 이 세 사람을 받치고 있었다. 지금은 어머니가 그 자리까지 받치고 있었다. 아빠의 몫까지, 혼자서. 원베드룸에서 다 같이 거실에서 잔 것. 새벽에 차 시동 켜두던 것. 도서관 벤치에서 빵 먹이던 것. CD에 담아서 들려준 노래들. 그것들이 전부 유산이 됐다. 그리고 그 유산을, 이제 어머니가 이어가고 있었다. 아빠의 몫까지.
Leo(임지우)는 Point72 Asset Management(New York), Cleopatra(임채원)는 UTA(United Talent Agency, Los Angeles)에서 각자의 꿈을 이어가고 있다.
하이라이트
• "소름이 끼쳤어요. 하버드 가는 길을 코팅해서 붙여두시는 거예요. 사람 일을 어떻게 알았을까." — 어머니 이재희
• "빵에 잼 발라가지고 벤치에서 먹이고 다시 들어가서 책 보는 거야." — 어머니 이재희
• "고등학교 가니까 애들이 책가방 들어줬어요. 그때 엄마한테 말했죠. 내 차례야. 엄마 미안해." — Cleopatra
• "우리를 이해할 수 있는 건 네 명뿐이었으니까. 가족이 무조건 넘버원이에요." — Leo
