It wasn't the howling of the wind or the boards groaning that drew me from my bed that night. Yes, they were the reasons I was still awake, but I was brought to my feet by the clatter of metal crashing outside my door. I found my mother kneeling on the floor with her back to me, trying to stack the framed photographs that were scattered across the hallway.

As I got closer, I could hear her mumbling to herself, clumsily setting one frame on top of the other. When I bent down to help her pick them up, I realized that she was crying. 

'Are you okay?' I asked tentatively.

'Huh?' Her head shot up. 'Oh, SooJi-ah, I'm sorry.' She sniffled and wiped her red cheeks with her sleeve. 'I woke you up.'

She blinked heavity, and I sank to the floor when it struck me... she was drunk. I spotted the bottle of vodka resting next to the top step and swallowed hard against the disappointment that rose in my throat.

'I was... I was just remembering,' she stuttered. She was crouching, trying to balance the stack of frames, when she clumsily plopped down to sit.

',' she muttered, blowing a stray hair from her eye, her arm still wrapped around the frames as she reached for the bottle. It was just out of her reach, so she scooted over to grab it and repositioned herself so her feet rested on the top steps. She took a swig and ran her arm across her forehead, frustrated with the floating hairs that kept falling in her face, She looked like she'd just travelled through a tunnel of blankets. 

I held the remaining frames that she couldn't quite manage and settled next to her. I noticed they were all pictures of my father.

My mother shuffled through the stack that teetered on her lap and send one slipping and sliding down the stairs. '.' 

Big wet tears streamed down her face as she held a photo up. It was of her and my father sitting on a sailboat.

'I know you were looking for these,' she blubbered, swiping the back of her hand across her nose. 'I had to dig them out of the back of the closet. But I can't....'

She couldn't continue. Her eyes were smeared with mascara, bloodshot and half-open. Behind her inebriation was a sadness that was consuming her, and my heart ached at the sight of it. 

'You r