Torn

Viet Nam’s civil war during the 60’s and 70s destroyed the Viet family way of life that existed for hundreds of generations. Brothers were pitted against one another due to their political differences. Wives lost their husbands from the demands of military life. The war fractured family trees into inevitable chaos that still exits until today.

My father grew up without a father and my grandmother raised my father without a husband. My father’s father did not die but forged a new path in life away from home. In turn this left my father and grandmother struggling to survive during Viet Nam’s brewing political tension. Often my father lived a nomadic life, jumping from house to house of generous relatives without his mother. Consequently he attended up 10-15 different schools up to his teen years.

Choosing not to be a victim, he still prevailed in school and still had the heart to love his father who had abandoned him multiple times in his life. Several years back, my grandfather had a stroke, leaving him not dead, but nearly lifeless. My father returned to Viet Nam perhaps to say his last goodbyes to his father.

Instead he said his first hellos to his seemingly new brother and sisters. During those years apart, my grandfather had five children with only three surviving. For the first time, my father had siblings. Moreover, I have a new uncle and new aunts. I met my new uncle for the first time two weeks ago and then met him again two nights ago.

I have no expectations from this encounter. For me this is only a physical glimpse into my heritage. I simply will let fate blossom this into a new friendship or new acquaintance. However, it is peculiar to look across the table, see stubby fingers, see crow’s feet around the eyes upon smiling, and then realize that the image is not from a mirror but family.