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aditional American life
“You’ve been eligible since your birthday Why didn’t you apply earlier?” she asked
I had wondered the sa I had told my father many times that he should apply, but in typical stubborn style, he had insisted that it lish, he explained haltingly to her that he thought he needed to wait At the suspicious look on her face, I jumped in to explain that he hadn’t knohat to do She seemed suspicious as to whether his vulnerability was an act
When I’d filed my mother’s application for disability, her future had been uncertain Her application had required doctor involve to receive funds would’ve been disastrous—she’d already been forced into early retirement, and the funds were acutely needed She herself was past the point of comprehension, and she needed someone else to intercede on her behalf
With my father, the barriers to aid were constructed by hiuidelines were quite clear But he persisted in fearing that perhaps he ible since his birthday, but he had been afraid to go
He had always been this way—somewhat hapless in Alish with a heavy accent, and he’d never learned to speak in English without a degree of hesitation This left him unable to be understood by impatient servers at restaurants, unable to call plue finances, or co
Of course, his personality played a large role in this learned helplessness, as well He constructed walls around hi to ask for help when he needed it He was suspicious of strangers, distrustful of lawyers, and deeply protective of his privacy
When salespeople called our hos, itated Each time he picked up the handset, the trajectory was faet this nuain! Do you hear? Don’t call again!”
At first he sounded uncertain; by the end he would be screa up on the poor salesperson, he wouldI tried to explain that it wasn’t worth getting so angry about; that this was their job, that screa But my father had established his patterns in life His reaction to any perceived lack of control was a hot tely held sense of personal ethics, the salespeople were clearly encroaching on his rights
We soh the wo the lump sum he would receive for six ible to receive benefits he hadn’t claiot home I’d rarely seen him so happy I understood it as the freedom from worry that financial security offered
Despite all our differences, our long-entrenched estrangeether We’d triumphed, for once Our relationship was no better than it had been before, but at least he could return to eating whole wheat bread, buying Gruyère cheese in ten-pound slabs fro up the occasional book from the local bookstore Those were, and are, his ideas of splurges
My father and I know next to nothing of each other’s life, then and now, but matic concerns—by finances, by illness, by need
For most of my life, my parents were ciphers My parents were individuals who had to be understood on their own terin story, of how they came to be a couple They confided separately their coe, but not the happier moments They tended not to speak positively of each other
From my mother I learned that my father had accidentally landed at the best university in South Korea, due to sorated at , but who hadn’t experienced such luck