Kim Yu-jin, 46, wept with an IV in her arm at a funeral home in Gwangju, South Jeolla Province, on Jan. 5, saying, "God blessed me with such wonderful parents. While having them was an immense blessing, their sudden departure feels like an unbearable punishment."
Kim lost her parents and younger brother in the Jeju Air crash on Dec. 29, leaving her as the sole survivor of her immediate family. She shared her story, hoping her pain would serve as a record to prevent similar tragedies.
Kim's grief is filled with what-ifs: "What if the birds hadn't been there? What if the concrete embankment wasn't built? What if they had flown from a different airport? What if I had stopped them from going on the trip?" These endless questions lead only to profound sorrow.
Father's final message
It was a tragedy that left no chance for final words. Miraculously, Her father's smartphone was discovered intact amid the ashes.
When the recovered photo album was opened, the first image Kim saw was a breathtaking sunrise her father had captured that morning from the airplane window. That photo, capturing the rising sun, felt like her father's final message.
Kim felt as though her father was saying, "Don't be too heartbroken without us. Embrace new hope and live strongly, like the rising sun." The photo's time stamp revealed it was taken at 7:26 a.m. on Dec. 29, just as the plane approached its destination, with the sun rising above the clouds.
Kim looked through the album, reliving moments of joy — her family buying gifts, marveling at scenery, laughing at quirky statues and savoring exotic meals.
A photo of her parents and brother smiling in front of a temple in Bangkok became their memorial portrait.
Pain of identification
Kim described the harrowing experience of identifying her family's remains. "People can't imagine what it's like to inspect bodies that are burnt and torn apart, or to desperately hope for their recovery," she said with a trembling voice. The intense explosion had left most bodies unrecognizable.
Her brother's remains were found first, on Jan. 1, followed by her mother the next day. Each body was assigned a number: her brother was 43, her mother 115 and her father 178. Her father's body, severely damaged, was recovered last on Jan. 3.
When Kim finally identified her father, she gently touched his face, wanting to remember him as the loving father who always embraced their family.
She imagined him shielding her mother and brother during the crash, his arm found bent as if in an act of protection.
Farewell, moving forward
Kim's family was laid to rest in a cemetery in Naju, South Jeolla Province, on Jan. 6. At the funeral, Kim clutched white chrysanthemums and sobbed over their caskets.
Though consumed by grief, she recalled her mother's favorite Bible verse: "Love your enemies; if someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to them the other also."
This verse stopped her from expressing anger toward Jeju Air representatives who visited the funeral.
Instead, Kim expressed gratitude for the airline's support staff who comforted her and the other grieving families. "I couldn't blame them. Their genuine compassion made me hope Jeju Air could recover, so the staff wouldn't lose their jobs."
As Kim returned to her daily life, she faced the daunting reality of her family's absence. "I'm terrified of encountering the void they've left behind," she admitted. However, the warmth and kindness of others gave her strength. "Seeing so many people offering hugs and support reminds me that I must keep living."
This article from the Hankook Ilbo, the sister publication of The Korea Times, is translated by a generative AI system and edited by The Korea Times.