october journal

Every year I get in a better mood when October comes around especially after four months of depressing winter in Wellington. It’s usually because it’s my birthday month and the weather gets a bit better. But this year’s October was even more special. After almost five years, I finally got to go back to Viet Nam and saw my family. Three weeks in Vietnam went both slowly and fast at the same time. So much has happened in our lives over the past five years, yet nothing changed when I saw them again. I was still my parents’ baby (George can honestly testify to this).

After a full day of travelling, through three airports and barely any sleep on the planes, we made it to Hanoi. I had this silly fear when we touched down at Nội Bài airport that I wouldn’t recognise my dad. Fortunately, my fear proved to be silly. I spotted him even when we were still inside waiting for our luggage and saw his broad smile. We had the longest hug. Still the same strong embrace and cigarette smell of my dad that I remember, despite a lot more greys.

We had a mishap at our original accommodation in Hanoi and had to find a new place to stay at the last minute. My first thought was that this was a jinx and would ruin this trip. It turned out to be a blessing in disguise as we found a new place only a two-minute drive from my parents. The first week was filled with family catch-ups and lots of my mum’s cooking. She made all of my favourites and the traditional dishes for Tết that I had missed for years. Food is my family’s love language. We don’t say “I love you” to each other every day. But my dad dropped off breakfast to George and I every morning. While my mum let us have “quẩy” with her phở, even though she doesn’t like them but knows that I do.

Seeing my two nieces for the first time was truly special. I was nervous about Mộc. She turned three in July and is a little person full of personality now. I was afraid I wasn’t cool enough to win her over. Or that seeing me in the flesh would not live up to her expectation of auntie Bíp that she saw through the screen. It was all in my head. She did take a while to warm up to us. But no one could resist chocolate, especially a three-year-old.

The past five years saw so many ups and downs in our lives. I had three promotions and got my NZ citizenship. My parents moved houses two times. My brother had two kids. Mum and I had a big fallout that caused us to not talk to each other for almost two years. It was probably the darkest time in my life. I got into plants and let them heal me. I also reached out to my dad and brother to ask for help. Honestly, I think my opening up has brought our family closer together. That’s when I realised I didn’t have to carry all these heavy thoughts and emotions by myself. Mum and I made up thanks to the effort from my dad and brother. It makes me happy now that we’re in a healthier relationship with boundaries.

So for all of us to be all well and finally able to spend time with each other was magical. There were so many special moments that I got to enjoy during this trip home. Like celebrating my birthday with my parents for the first time since I turned 18. Or attending my best friend’s wedding even though we now live in two different continents and outside of Vietnam. But it is the small ordinary moments of everyday life that are giving me a hard time post holiday.

I miss sitting on the back of the scooter with Mộc in the middle, talking to her about ambulances and firetrucks, overflowing with pride and love when she said she loves ambulances because they save people.

I miss holding baby Mì in my arms, singing her my favourite lullaby, and her falling asleep on my shoulder.

I miss sleeping in my mum’s bed, her tending to me as I was overheating with a high fever, feeling like an 8-year-old again. Only this time I was so glad to eat her congees filled with lots of spring onions instead of dreading it like back in the day.

I miss sitting behind my dad on the back of his scooter roaming the streets of Hanoi. It’s one of the rare places I always feel at ease amid the traffic. He always takes me places and picks me up, wherever I am, whenever it is, however old I am. A blessing that took me 28 years to truly appreciate instead of resenting like I used to. Because I was too worried about what others people thought of how he looked or what bike he rode.

I miss that Wednesday morning sitting on a balcony overlooking the busy morning traffic, having a coffee with my brother and listening to what’s troubling his mind for the first time. We never shared our feelings and thoughts with each other growing up, even though we are both feelers. Maybe it’s the 9-year age gap between us. Maybe it’s the introvert thing. It warms my heart that I’m getting closer to my brother as we get older.

This trip home has brought me so much peace, but it also pained me to see with my own eyes how much my family have been impacted financially by the pandemic. Yet, I feel liberating to not feel ashamed about it anymore. Seeing that my parents went through a lot to give me an opportunity to have a better life in New Zealand inspires me to make something of my life.