[Essay] In Memory of the Late Mr. Gwak Min-ho

 This morning, a social worker told me that Mr. Gwak Min-ho, a user of our center's personal assistance service, had passed away last Saturday and that his funeral had already taken place. I had known that, the week before, he had been rushed to the emergency room with an acute heart condition and was receiving treatment in the intensive care unit.

“I told myself it couldn't be true — but how could you loosen your hold on this life so soon?”

The late Mr. Gwak Min-ho was a person with a disability, living with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS. Even as I write these words, the “Daily Life of an ALS Patient” section of his Naver blog, Slow Records, lives on through the posts he left behind for fellow ALS patients. On the blog's opening page, a photograph of a middle-aged man in a pink short-sleeved shirt and a hat, smiling brightly, continues to welcome those who share the same pain.

Before ALS entered his life, he had been an accomplished small-business owner. According to his blog, he was diagnosed with ALS in 2016, ten years ago, and had been undergoing treatment ever since. From 2018 onward, he devoted himself to sharing information drawn from the experiences of fellow ALS patients and their caregivers. The 280 slow records published on his blog bear witness to the passion and perseverance of the past decade. In those pages, we encounter not only a person with a disability and a patient in need of care, but also a dignified man with ALS who lived his life with pride and purpose, reaching out to help others.

Ms. Ahn Jeong-hui was the personal assistant who cared for him. For many years, she stood beside him, supporting his passion as a skilled professional, at times as a colleague, and often as a friend. I heard that since the emergency, she has been so deeply troubled that she has scarcely been able to sleep. The incident occurred on a holiday, when she was not at his side. She has blamed herself, saying, “Had I been there, perhaps it would not have come to this.” I cannot begin to measure the depth of that sorrow. I offer my deepest sympathy and consolation to Ms. Ahn as well.

Above all, I extend my heartfelt condolences to his family, now overcome with grief at the sudden and unexpected loss of their father. Through these words, however inadequate they may be, I humbly pray for the repose of his soul and offer my deepest sympathy to all who mourn him.

Today, as I looked through the 280 slow records left behind by the late Mr. Gwak Min-ho, I found myself asking what it would mean to honor him in a truly sincere way. If the government had granted him more hours of personal assistance service — or if there had been enough service vouchers to provide support even on holidays — perhaps our personal assistant could have remained at his side. This is not an attempt to place blame on anyone. Yet I cannot help but wonder: had our society embraced more fully those with disabilities who depend on care, might a tragedy like this have been prevented?

Mr. Gwak Min-ho, may you now rest in peace. The 280 records you left behind will continue to keep vigil beside someone through the long hours of the night. May the late Mr. Gwak find eternal rest.

On behalf of the social workers at Jung-gu Haengbok Center, I offer this tribute in his memory.

With deepest respect,

Kim Sung-Kee

Chairperson

SE Empower Social Cooperative

July 29, 2026

(The names of the service user and the personal assistant appearing in this essay are pseudonyms.)

[About the Author]

Dr. Kim Sung-Kee (Social Welfare)

Director, The Chaeum Care Biz Lab

Chairman, SE Empower Social Cooperative

Email: skknd@naver.com