What Happened at the Dry Cleaners – I Am Proud of Myself
(A story from five years ago)
"Appa(dad), consider not working for a couple of weeks, until the worst of the virus is over."
This message from my eldest son came on a Sunday evening as I was about to go to bed.
He was suggesting we close our dry cleaners for about two weeks until the coronavirus situation calmed down.
He also asked about our health insurance.
We had canceled our insurance when our youngest son joined the Marine Corps.
Back then, the $1,300 monthly premium was a huge burden, but we kept the insurance out of concern for our children.
When even our youngest left home, we decided—out of stubbornness—that if we were just careful, we could live without insurance.
And for nearly ten years, we’ve stayed healthy and avoided hospital visits.
Though the message came from my eldest, I had a strong feeling that all five of our children had discussed it and agreed on the suggestion, with him acting as their spokesperson.
Reading that message put me into deep thought.
I had worked hard and carefully devised strategies to operate safely despite the virus.
I believed it was safe to keep the shop open.
But now I had to see it from my children’s perspective.
Was it really necessary to open the shop and cause worry for my kids?
Especially when we were already facing huge financial losses.
Whether we closed for two weeks or stayed open, it might not make much of a difference financially.
“Should we just close so our whole family can have peace of mind…?”
I had become a source of worry for my children—a burden.
Our roles had reversed.
To “repay” my children, I would have to close the shop.
That Sunday night, I tossed and turned in bed.
The thought that I might contract the virus haunted me.
What if my children’s fears became reality…?
But then, I came to a conclusion.
I decided to stay open.
In that moment of inner struggle, my youngest son came to mind.
I remembered him returning home after completing Marine boot camp, proudly showing us his name patch on his uniform.
One side read “KIM,”
and the other side read “US MARINE.”
He explained that he wasn’t just part of our family anymore,
but also now a member of the larger family known as the United States Marine Corps.
I was so proud of him—barely 20 years old, yet already so noble.
My decision to keep the dry cleaners open, despite my children’s objections,
was because I wasn’t only thinking of my biological family,
but also the “geographical family” I’d come to know through running this shop.
These days, while many people stay home under quarantine,
those in uniforms—police officers, correctional officers, hospital staff—
are busier than ever.
I opened the shop for them,
so they’d have one less thing to worry about: clean clothes.
This morning, a customer came in and dropped off clothes for a funeral.
He said his aunt and cousin had passed away from COVID-19 the previous week,
but due to the overwhelming number of deaths, the funeral was delayed until this week.
He asked if I could have the clothes ready by Wednesday afternoon for a Thursday service.
When it comes to funeral-related garments,
I am especially accommodating—
doing everything I can to help.
I reassured him I’d have it ready.
I wanted to ease at least one worry for someone already going through so much.
His troubled expression softened.
He thanked me and hurried out.
About ten minutes later, another customer came in to pick up clothes he had dropped off on Saturday.
He was a new customer.
He picked up a suit and a white shirt,
and left another suit and shirt to be cleaned.
These days, it’s rare for people to drop off business attire,
since most office workers are working from home.
Curious, I asked,
“Do you still go to work?”
“Yes, I’m considered essential,” he replied.
“What do you do?”
“I work at a funeral home.”
He said things had been overwhelming, with so many incoming bodies.
His regular cleaner had closed down,
but someone had recommended our shop.
For him too, one worry was now taken care of.
How can we limit the front-line fighters against COVID-19 to just doctors, nurses, and EMTs?
In times like these, when everyone is struggling with a disaster born of nature,
there are others in the trenches—
and behind them, supporters like me doing our small part.
I felt proud of myself.
On a battlefield,
it’s not just those firing guns or cannons who are soldiers.
The cooks, the supply carriers—they’re soldiers too.
In that sense,
even if I’m not fighting directly in this war against the coronavirus,
I believe I’m doing my part behind the scenes, supporting and cheering on those who are.
Washing clothes for our neighbors,
wearing a mask for the sake of my wife and children,
and washing my hands with care—
that’s what I must do now.