Spring Cleaning(?) the Heart

Today is Sunday, the final day of a quiet three-day weekend. After working through last Friday and the previous weekend, these few days of rest were exactly what I needed—not just for my body, but for my spirit. Tomorrow, the five-day work week begins again, but I’m heading into it feeling noticeably lighter.

For three months, I’ve been carrying a weight that didn’t belong to me.

Back in October, I prepared a large container of Kimchi. I enjoyed fresh Kimchi a few times right after I made. And then, I tucked it away in the mudroom fridge, letting it ferment and wait for Christmas. It was meant for my daughter’s favorite dish: Kimchijjjige. I had visions of her coming home, the steam rising from the pot, and the house smelling of comfort.

But, Christmas came and went, and the visit didn’t happen. For months, every time I opened that fridge, that container felt like a heavy stone sitting on my chest. I kept it there “just in case,” holding onto a hope that was starting to hurt more than it helped.

Choosing to Let Go

Today was finally warm and sunny—the kind of day that makes you want to open the windows and breathe. I decided it was time to move that heavy emotion out of my mind.

I pulled out the Kimchi and made the stew for myself. I didn’t have the sliced pork loin or the fresh green onions I would usually buy to make it “perfect,” and I chose not to run to the grocery store. I just used what was in the fridge.

As I ate, the longing for my daughter was still there—tremendous and deep. But eating that meal was an act of respect: for her wishes, for the reality of our current distance, and for my own need to stop waiting and start living.

Preparing for the Week Ahead

The rest of the day was spent in the kitchen, grounding myself in the rhythm of prep work. Since I’m back to a full work week tomorrow, I put together five days’ worth of my favorite hearty salads.

There was something about the light in the kitchen today that felt special. I found myself taking photos and even a little video of the process. It wasn’t about being productive; it was about capturing a moment where I felt at peace again.

Planting for What Is to Come

To top off the afternoon, I felt the unmistakable scent of spring in the air. Inspired by the warmth, I tucked some small sweet potatoes into a planter to start growing slips for this year’s garden.

There is something so incredibly hopeful about planting something and waiting for it to sprout. Sweet potatoes take time. They do not rush. They develop quietly beneath the soil, unseen for months. It’s a reminder that seasons change, and even after a long, heavy winter, new things are ready to grow.

Perhaps the heart heals in a similar way.

Today was a pretty good day. I’m ready for Monday.

Young Mee, 

02/22/2026, 9:20 pm, Sunday -3 centigrade