Remembering My Grandmother

Me @ about 2 years old with my grandmother (1977)

It's hard for me to be here in Vietnam and not think of my grandmother who I called Ngoai.  

It was October 2011 when my mom started planning her trip to Vietnam.  She asked if I wanted to go.  Rocky had just turned one and I wasn't too excited about traveling 30 hours with two young kids to a destination with 100% humidity, unclean water, and the possibility of exposing them to malaria.  But in my heart, I wanted to see my grandmother and introduce her to my two children.  She was 89 years old and I knew that it might be my last chance.  Even though we'd only flown once with Peanut and never with Rocky, it didn't take much convincing for Jared to be on board with making that long journey.  I'm so thankful that we made that trip to Vietnam in February 2012 and Jared's (and my) uncle Ken and his wife, aunt Tina, came along because this professional photographer took these pictures of me and my family with my Ngoai.  They are the final pictures I'd ever have with my Ngoai because she passed away almost exactly one year later.

Rocky was 16 months and Peanut was 4 years old 

February 2012 - my grandmother was trying not to smile because
she didn't have her teeth in.  So, she looks like she's eating something sour.

February 2012

Fun facts about Ngoai:

1.  She made the best fresh soy bean milk.  The taste of it immediately reminds me of her.

2.  She could beat anyone at the Asian squat.  Seriously, she could out-squat anyone.  My grandmother would do the Asian squat while chopping lemongrass, hand washing clothes, making soy bean milk, using the toilet, cleaning fish, you name it!

3.  My friend, Salena T., and I nicknamed her F.B.I. because my grandmother knew everything that was going on.  The woman couldn't read, write, drive, or speak English, but if you missed a turn down a street, she knew it.  My dad used to call her the San Antonio operator because every Vietnamese person in San Antonio would call our house and talk to my grandmother if they wanted some other Vietnamese person's phone number.  The woman didn't know how to read and had bad eyesight, but she knew how to decipher numbers and I taught her how to use the phone.  That landline in our house was how my grandmother kept the San Antonio Vietnamese community connected.

4.  She divorced her husband, which was unheard of in Vietnam then and even now, because you heavily rely on your husband to support you.  In order to support herself and my mom, my grandmother worked as a nanny and then at some point sold dried squid on the side of the road or vice versa.

5.  When I was in 4th or 5th grade, my friends (poor Kim V.) complained that my grandmother would just hang up on them when they telephoned.  I asked my grandmother why she did that and she said, "I knew it was your friend, but they'd speak all this English.  You weren't home, so I'd hang up."  To remedy the rude treatment, I taught my grandmother a few phrases in English.  So, my grandmother started saying in really loud, heavily accented, robotic English, "KIM NOT HOME" and hang up -- even when I was home!

6.  One of my proudest moments was when my grandmother passed her U. S. naturalization exam.  I can't remember if I was a senior in high school or freshman in college, but by that time, my grandmother met all of the U.S.'s exemptions for qualifying, but still had to pass the exam interview to become a citizen.  Many of her friends hired a lawyer to help them bypass the exam.  My grandmother couldn't afford a lawyer, but more importantly, wanted to study and go to the interview.  I was her study partner.  She was allowed to answer in Vietnamese, but some of the answers were names of American cities or people.  I went to the interview as her interpreter and was so proud to sit next to a 90 pounds bad ass.