Sweethearts on Hoan Kiem Lake. Happy Valentine's Day everyone.
I'm not sure I possess the ability to express what I'm feeling in my heart at this moment. It is some combination of sadness, regret, frustration, and melancholy.......yet, at the same time I am grateful for the opportunity to feel all of these things. Last night I barely slept. I lay in bed all night anticipating what this morning would bring. As it turns out it would bring: a reunion, a first meeting and goodbye all in one, and sadly, a death.
At 8am I hopped onto the back of my uncle's motorbike and drove to see my grandfather for the second time in my 31 years. We arrived unexpected, and he didn't recognize me right away, but after a brief explanation he soon understood that I was his middle son's daughter. My father and my uncle had already concocted a vague lie as to why I was showing up unexpected and without my dad. In their plan, it was my role to deliver the money from my dad and uncle back home, and to give the uncle I was with a reason to collect some documents he needed. In my plan, my role was merely to have the chance to see my grandfather and step-grandmother for what may be the last time. I know that may seem morbid, but he is 80 years old and not in good health, and I don't know when I will be back in this country.
Not much was said between us. We sat, and my grandmother and uncle did most of the talking. He showed me some old photographs of himself, my uncles, my grandmother and my father. He let me keep a wallet size portrait of himself from a few years ago. I had brought my camera with me, but it didn't seem right to pull it out for photos, so I sat taking in any small details that I could: the smell of incense, my grandfather's metal bed frame, the bowl from which he drank his Chinese medicine, the chart on the wall that is a record of all the deaths in our family, the confused look on his face when we woke him, his blue pajama bottoms, and the concern he showed for my comfort. It was less than two hours and one Coke later that it was time for me to say goodbye. He wished me and my family well, and we were on our way.
On the way home my uncle brought me by my grandmother's grave. I can't remember how to spell her Vietnamese name, but her Christian name was Maria. Her ashes are kept at a modest Catholic church in a glass encased shelf with the remains of many others. There is very little space left here in Saigon, so most people are cremated and kept this way now. Upon her urn is a small black and white photo of her, and on the top are the lyrics of a song that my grandfather wrote down for her. They include a line about stroking her hair for the very last time. I think she was the true love of his life. Before we left my uncle asked me if I wanted to say something to her; I did. I wanted to thank her for loving my father. And then I said goodbye.
Since there are apparently no squirrels in this neighborhood, I have taken to pouring all of my adoration onto the little salamanders that scurry up and down the walls here. There is one that I have named Sid who comes to dinner every night. He just hangs out by the light above the dining room table totally chill. Well, this morning we suffered a great loss. I found a baby salamander on the bathroom floor........dead. And it would appear that I was the cause. I think I may have stepped on him. I am devastated. Devastated.:(
This has been an emotional day.
