Thang Nguyen 555

I could recall laying there at Tu Du maternity ward, looking up and following my sister steps as she was shy. My sister was already in college, but we just hadn’t had babies in the family for the good decade and a half.

Then next up would be my Dad throwing a knife which pinned into the door frame, again the thief in the night ran for his life. I was scared being so small and helpless.

A few years on, I jumped on top of the divan, staying as far as the rising water as possible. On that same spot, on a dry day at dinner time, I witnessed the four adults chasing one another around the dining table. My brother flunked the pharmaceutical test (one of his many later in life, trans continentally), which triggered my Dad’s anger, which triggered my Mom’s protective instincts, which triggered my sister’s as well.

What a fuss!

My best collection also had a “slide” of mid-summer festival, of a monk burned himself to death and how could I forget, the shooting of a VC on the rooftop (Tet 68).

In all, something in my small brain must have concluded that:

• life is transient – here today, gone tomorrow
• what matters is the moment, with family – extended ones, especially during the holidays
• learning is a privilege, ignorance is a given
• if I were to survive until old age, it’s a miracle
• male is dominant, female nurturing and gay is bad (even in the US, this was true until 1969)
• what is quality of life? a sense of well-being? conversation topics always center on westernization and weaponization
• we’re not materialistic. Only Jeep, radio and velo solex (or mobylette)
• Big ballpoints barely arrived to replace ink (purple), kite flies the sky and lantern on the street (firecrackers and gunshots? normal)
• ghetto life entertainment? movie projected onto the alley wall e.g. home movies, wedding etc…
• last but not least of what I saw was the carbine N1, held high by my neighbor who made an exception for us to pull back the barbed wire already in place for curfew and changing government

Cheers. Ly Ruou Mung! “Ngay ay que huong yen vui, doi anh ve trong chen tinh day voi” (when the sound of gun shots stop, then we wait for your return)”.

To the best of my recollection, there hasn’t been a sound of flare, of bomb and of choppers after four wars: French, American, Cambodia and China. Classmates started to trickle back, for reunion, for celebration.

To the best of my recollection, there hasn’t been death by destruction among us class of 68-75. Only of attrition, of old age.

Then one day, even when the universe keeps turning, churning to bring us ever closer, without my awareness. Then there will be no more recollection only reunion.

For now, I can still recall looking up from the bassinet, following my shy sister around the ward.