Son, today, once again,
I find myself inevitably parting from you.
To a place called daycare,
I entrust you, far too small to even be called a child yet.

Beyond the closed door,
Your cries of betrayal incessantly reach me.
Yet, to earn a living, I must go to work.
My heart aches, but I am powerless.

In the world of a father,
There are many things one cannot control.

To your father, who wakes early on weekend mornings,
Your mother commands to fold the laundry,
What choice do I have?

When, after three days, I’ve reached 80% of the monthly target,
And my boss questions why not 100%,
What choice do I have?

The junior colleague who calls me “old man” and “stick-in-the-mud”
What choice do I have?
Even a colleague four years my junior casually calls me by name,
Yet, as a father, I must endure. What choice do I have?

Thus, your father, navigating a world full of inevitabilities,
Must bear the pain of parting, leaving you at daycare,
Enduring, unavoidably, together with you.

Yet, the way to endure this parting
is not because it is inevitable,
But knowing all this is for the best for you and me,
Believing it to be a proactive choice of my own.

Indeed!
It’s not that I part with you inevitably.
I choose to part with you briefly each day.
Because it is the best for both you and me,
That is my choice.

At your mother's command to fold the laundry, I retort,
“It's my choice to fold. I’m not doing this because I was told.”

To the haranguing of my boss, questioning why not 100%,
I silently respond, “Why don’t you do it yourself?”
Yet, I choose to keep those words to myself.

I embrace being called “old man” and “stick-in-the-mud,”
Aiming to be the helpful elder, the justly firm yet fair,
In a world that often forgets the value of gentle strength.

What does it matter if a younger colleague calls me by name?
The Confucian hierarchy has marred Korean corporate culture enough.
So, I choose a more horizontal form of address.

If all this is my choice, whom shall I blame, and why harbor any dissatisfaction?
The phrase “I had no choice” is but a self-soothing lie,
A way to lessen one's responsibility and guilt.

Thus, by my choice, I leave you at daycare,
And with a heavy heart, I head to work, leaving you in tears by my choice.

For a better future for you and me,
Millions of fathers in Korea part with
their children at daycare every day.
It's our choice. To say we had no choice is the language of a defeated man.

So today,
I prepare for an earlier departure from work.
Unlike the morning rush, entangled with countless others on the subway,
I indulge in the luxury of a less crowded car, even sitting down.
An hour passed, and finally, I arrived at your daycare.

At the door, when I call your name, your tiny babble reaches my ears,
Sending a flutter of excitement through my heart.
It's the moment my longing dissolves.
You toddle towards me.
I crouch down, and you stretch your arms to embrace me,
Your small frame fills my chest completely.

My son, whom I've missed all day,

Someday, when you've grown a bit more,
The day will come when we'll drift apart.
And when you, too, face this inevitable world,
Believe that it's your choice.

Know that it is indeed your choice.
Then, you'll find the courage to take responsibility for your world,
And the ability to change it will grow within you.

Though the journey and its outcomes may not always be pleasant,
I make you this promise:

No matter what choices you make
Or what you become before me,
I will embrace you with pride.

Just like now, with a happy smile.

Tomorrow, we must choose to part
at this daycare again,
But I hope we never forget
That we can meet again, just like today...

From Dad.