Một năm xa mẹ

Thưa mẹ,

Thế là một năm đã thấm thoát trôi qua kể từ ngày mẹ rời xa con. Trong trí óc, trái tim, và cả thâm tâm con vẫn luôn có hình bóng của mẹ. Từng giờ, từng phút, từng giây, con phải cố gắng lắm mới nén lại được nỗi nghẹn ngào xót xa mỗi khi nhớ đến mẹ. Trong một năm qua mẹ chỉ hiện về hai lần trong giấc mơ của con. Được gặp lại mẹ và được trò chuyện với mẹ, con rất vui dù chỉ trong giấc mộng. Khi con tỉnh dậy, mẹ lại xa con.

Mẹ đi rồi, con cũng chẳng còn lưu luyến trần gian này nữa. Một ngày nào đó con cũng sẽ xa lìa cõi tạm này để về với mẹ. Nhưng giờ đây con phải tiếp tục ở lại đây để nuôi dưỡng đàn con thơ như mẹ đã từng nuôi nấng mấy chị em chúng con. Mẹ đã hy sinh cả đời mẹ cho chúng con và luôn cả mạng sống của mình vì chúng con. Công lao to lớn của mẹ làm sao chúng con có thể quên được.

Cái cảm giác thiếu đi mẹ trên cõi đời này, con không thể nào dùng chữ để diễn tả được. Nhưng con cảm nhận được sự hiện diện của mẹ trong đời sống của chúng con. Mẹ luôn hướng về chúng con. Mỗi khi con vội vã trong công việc hay trong cuộc sống, mẹ luôn nhắc nhở con chậm lại. Mỗi khi con bị rơi vào cạm bẫy của tuyệt vọng, mẹ ban cho con động lực để thoát khỏi. Mỗi khi con cảm thấy cuộc đời này vô nghĩa, mẹ cho con thấy được ý nghĩa khi làm cha mẹ. Con phải luôn phấn đấu để làm tròn bổn phận của một người cha. Đám nhỏ là nghị lực để con tiếp tục sống trên cõi đời này.

Dù mẹ đã ra đi khỏi cuộc đời này, mẹ vẫn luôn sống mãi trong chúng con. Dù một năm, mười năm, hoặc mấy mươi năm, mẹ vẫn tồn tại mãi trong tim chúng con.

Wrapping Up Our Ski Week

Today is our last day in Conway, New Hampshire. A week of skiing has just flown by. Between Attitash and Wildcat Skiing Resorts, my body is sore, but in a good way. I really enjoyed skiing. Similar to ice skating and rollerblading, skiing needs practice to improve. Even though I couldn’t make it on the blue terrain, I had reached my goal for the week. I am getting a hang of parallel skiing and hockey stops. I am working toward short turns.

Đán has done really well with snowboarding even though he only had two hours of semi-private lessons. I wanted to sign up for more lessons for him, but both resorts didn’t have enough coaches. He figured his way around the board on the green terrain.

Đạo stuck to skiing and he enjoyed accompanying his brother on the green terrain. I wanted him to learn the parallel with me, but he still preferred plowing down. As long as he was having fun, I didn’t mind.

Xuân only started skiing this week. He had two hours of private lessons. When his cousin, Hân, took his private lessons, Xuân followed along and the instructor taught them both. The next day, they took a group lesson together. They enjoyed each other’s company.

Vương didn’t want to ski all week until I took him on the magic carpet today. Then he wanted to ski. He had such a good posture and he didn’t fall at all. I am glad that he is warming up to this sport.

We’re going to get the most out of our Epic passes. I can’t wait to hit more ski mountains in the next few winter months.

Stuck on Blue

I had eight hours of sleep last night. My mind felt great, but my body ached a bit. After three days of snowboarding and skiing, my body showed its age. I signed up for Xuân and Hân all-day group lessons. They enjoyed the green terrain with their instructor.

Đạo and Đán went on their own and I continued to work on my parallel on the green terrain. Then I decided to take the challenge on the blue terrain. I took the lift up and realized I might have made a mistake, but it was too late to back down. I figured I could plow my way down if it got worse.

I paralleled my way down a bit until I reached the first steep slope. I tried to plow my way down, but it was too fast and my skis popped off. I collected my skis and put them over the mountain side. I walked toward the next slope to take a peek. There was no way I could make it down in one piece. I called the patrol to come and to get me. The patrol asked my name and age to make sure I was not injured. Then he gave me a ride down on a toboggan.

He switched between deep plow, left side and right-side brakes. It was quite incredible to observe. I definitely need to work more on my parallel and alternate hockey stops to have better control before I head back to the blue terrain. It was definitely an eye-opening experience.

Keep Paralleling

Due to lack of sleep, I crashed early last night. Unfortunately I woke up around one in the morning with a migraine. I tried to lure myself back to sleep, but I couldn’t. I read a bit until I was dead tired. I caught a few hours of sleep and didn’t think I could ski the next day.

I woke up and felt OK, but not great. I decided to go ahead and ski. I spent a bit of time on the magic carpet with Xuân and my nephew Hân who skied for the first time. I practiced my hockey stop and Xuân followed me. He picked it up fast. We had a lot of fun.

Then I went on the green slope with Đạo and Đán to continue to work on my parallel. I wanted to bring my skis closer together—to the point that they align next to each other.

I need to find a lesson plan to see what I should work on, but I couldn’t find anything yet. Maybe I should try out a blue slope next. I don’t know. I hope I’ll have a good sleep tonight.

I am having a great time on this ski trip with my older sons. I feel bad that my wife is stuck with Vương. We had a set of skis for him, but he refused to try. My wife had to stay with him. I told her I could watch Vương so she could take a skiing lesson, but she didn’t want to.

A week is going by so fast. We only have two more days to ski before heading back home on Sunday.

Plow to Parallel

Despite lacking sleep, sore arms, and headache, I was determined to hit the slope. My goal was to transition from plow to parallel down the green slope. I didn’t realize that I had been plowing all these times instead of skiing in parallel. When I saw skiers who turned side to side down the slope with ease, I wanted to do that. I turned to YouTube and found a simple yet effective tutorial.

I tried out the technique on the magic carpet, but I couldn’t get anywhere. I went on to the green slope to just try it out. After several trips down the slope, I figured out how to turn my legs and shifted my weight. I was able to keep my skis in parallel positions. When I saw the instructor, who gave Xuân a two-hour private lesson yesterday, teaching an adult group lesson, I asked him if taught beginners parallel skiing. He said that, “I taught them the plow as a defense mechanism, but they should be learning parallel skiing. It is easier for a 75-year-old body.” Then he dashed off with parallel skiing.

As I skied my way down the mountain, I was bending down like ice skating and rollerblading. When the instructor saw me, he said, “You don’t need to bend down to ski. Stand up.” I took his advice and stood up. Tomorrow, I will continue to master parallel skiing before moving on to hockey stop. I hope to get a good sleep tonight.

Easing Back Into Skiing

After my failed attempt to snowboard on Monday, I switched back to skiing on Tuesday. I could barely put on a pair of used ski boots I bought for $40. Once I was able to jam my feet in, they hurt like hell. I could barely walk a few steps. I had to take off my boots. There went my chance for skiing.

I brought my boots to the warming area to warm them up. Before I put them back on, I massaged my feet. It felt better. I snapped my boots into a pair of used skis I bought for $50. I paid $75 to tune up my skis and to make sure my boots fit in the binding correctly. Then I paid $35 for a brand new pair of poles at the ski shop at the resort.

I skied for a few minutes at the magic carpet at the Wildcat resort and my feet started to feel the pressure. I took off my skis to let my feet rest. When I turned around, I couldn’t see Đạo and Xuân. I asked the lift operator if she had let the two kids on the lift to the green slope. Because it was a slow day, therefore; she noticed them. I worried that the green slope would be a bit of a challenge for Xuân. I kept waiting and felt anxious that I forgot about the pain in my feet.

Even though I didn’t feel like I was ready to get back on to the green slope, I hopped to see if I could find them. I spotted them with the ski patrol. When the patrol saw Xuân crying, he stopped and talked to him. He felt intimidated by the slope. The patrol gave him a wagon ride back down the mountain.

I plowed myself down and eased back into my groove. I didn’t fall at all. I joined Đạo and Đán on the green slope until it was time to close. Each time, I made my plow smaller to gain a bit more speed. My next goal is to learn parallel skiing and hockey stopping.

When we got back to our rental house, I was exhausted. Around bedtime, my arms were sore. I realized that I used my poles too much to push myself. My arms were so uncomfortable that I could not fall asleep. I ended up only with a few hours of sleep. I woke up with a headache, sore arms, and a painful thumb. Getting old sucks.

Snowboarding

We’re vacationing in New Hampshire and staying close by Attitash Resort. Yesterday, I signed up for a two-hour private lesson for Đán and a group lesson for myself to learn snowboarding. Due to lack of coaches, my group lesson got canceled; therefore, I tagged along with Đán. We took a semi-private lesson together.

For two hours, we learned how to turn using our heels and toes and then connect them together to zig zag across the slope. Our coach told us that snowboarding was a bit harder to learn than skiing. Once you got over the learning curve, snowboarding would be less than skiing.

I started out with my dominant right foot, but I kept leaning back to my left foot; therefore, my board didn’t move and it turned in the direction that I didn’t want to turn. I tried switching my feet. As I stepped on the magic carpet with my left foot, I lost balance and fell. I landed my left hand on the belt and bruised my thumb.

After our lesson, Đán went up to the green slope with Đạo, who stuck with skiing. Đán fell several times and managed to snowboard down the slope. I stayed at the magic carpet and worked on my turns. In the afternoon, I joined Đạo and Đán on the green slope. I fell all the way down. I tried it one more time and fell even harder. I felt the impact afterward. My whole body was aching. My thumb was swollen and painful every time I wiggled it.

I am not so sure about snowboarding. My lack of sleep the night before put a toll on my ability to learn. I found strapping my left boot on the binding every single time I went down the slope and unstrapping it to get on the lift to be annoying. I had to sit my ass on the snow and pulled the board closer to strap in. With my swollen left thumb, it was painful to strap in.

I am glad Đán took up snowboarding. With his confidence and fearlessness, he successfully went into the dark side. I am going to stick with skiing and to develop more skills for this season.

An Epilogue by Donny Trương

Upon receiving a text message from Cousin Minh sharing stories about our extended family written by Aunt Chín, I dropped everything I was doing and focused on reading every sentence and every word. Aunt Chín’s conversational prose gave me an impression as if she was sitting next to me and telling me these stories. Among the siblings, Aunt Chín and Aunt Hai had a gift for storytelling. One time, I had the pleasure of joining Aunt Hai’s family taking a vacation to Disney World. The drive from Lancaster, Pennsylvania to Orlando, Florida took more than half a day. At that time, there was no smartphone and I was not into reading yet because I only came to America a few years earlier and my English was not good. Fortunately, Aunt Hai, who sat in the front passenger seat, told us stories in articulate details about her parents’ life and businesses during the world. I wished I had a recording device to document every word she said. My wish, however, is now fulfilled when I read Aunt Chín’s stories.

Reading about the lives of my mother’s parents and her siblings, not only made me proud, but also lucky to be related by blood with the Lý’s extended family. I admired Grandfather’s talent and audacity. At fourteen, he left his home in the village to find work. From his empty hands, he made his dream come true. He opened his own Chinese traditional drugstore and became a herbal doctor who created his own cough medication. He was not just an entrepreneur, but also an innovator. I respected Grandfather, but I had tremendous love for Grandmother. She put her life on the line to work and to feed her family. The casualty of war ended her life. Her sacrifice was profound.

Aunt Hai was not only the oldest daughter who upheld her filial piety, but also the oldest sister who loved and cared for her siblings. She was a talented business woman. Her successes in both Việt Nam and America had proved that she can be put anywhere on God’s green earth and she’ll triple her worth. Aunt Hai was a hustler. As for my mother, I had lived with her peculiarities, including her clean freak and glacial pace. As for her jealousy, I had a different perspective than Aunt Chín’s (and I will delve in more details about it).

Aunt Năm was always willing to help out her parents’ business as well as her younger sisters with schoolwork. In addition, she was a quick learner and skillful in making handcrafted jewelry. Uncle Sáu was the only son of the family and an outstanding student. His story reminded me of my childhood memories including cricket fights and soccer. I did not know about “The Beetle Car Game” until I looked it up on YouTube. It was an intriguing traditional game that made me wish kids today used their hands to craft their own toys instead of just pushing buttons on their touch screens.

Aunt Tám was indeed the savior of the family. I am here today in the land of opportunities because of her love for her family. As the first person to escape, she helped and supported each of her family members to reach the land of freedom. Last but not least, I admired Aunt Chín’s photographic memories. Although some of these stories occurred over 60 years ago, she remembered them in great detail. Her storytelling was frank and honest. She wrote what she experienced and observed. Sometimes the truth hurt and the reality was ruthless. I hope we can take away what she has offered and learn from our past.

When deciding to write this epilogue, I would like to share my own thoughts on what Aunt Chín has written. As I had mentioned before, I had a different view on my mother’s jealousy. My observation might not be right and hers might not be wrong, or vice versa. We just had two different perspectives. I knew nothing about my mother’s previous marriage because she never mentioned anything about him. In her heart and soul, he no longer existed. Aunt Chín shared the issue was that he always went away and she was jealous of him; therefore, she asked him for financial help to raise their kids. He didn’t give her anything. They got into arguments and physical fights. They ended up in divorce.

To me, my mother was not the jealous type. She shouldn’t have to ask her husband for financial support for their kids. As a responsible father, he didn’t need to be reminded to provide for his family. Maybe that was her fate; therefore, she could not escape it. Even when she was married to my father, the situation was the same. He worked far away for months and only came for a few days, then left again. When my mother asked him for financial support, he told her that he did volunteer work; therefore, he had no money. She had to pawn her jewelry to get by until we left for America.

In the first few years living in a foreign country, she raised two kids on her own. She felt sad and chastised him for not taking care of his wife and kids, but she was not jealous. Even though she knew he was having an affair with another woman in Việt Nam, she paid him no mind. After thirty years of living by herself, she no longer needed any financial or emotional support from any man. A few times I asked her if she missed him or was jealous of him and she responded, “I have no time to be jealous or to miss him.” Of course, most of her time was spent in the kitchen from early morning to late night.

I always remembered and respected her toughness; therefore, I never thought she was jealous. To be jealous was to love. If she were jealous, she could have found a way to trap him in the US or she could have gone back to Việt Nam with him. She had done neither. She gave him complete freedom. After many years of submitting the paperwork for him to reunite with his wife and son in the US, he ended up only staying for a few months and wanted to return to Việt Nam. She didn’t hesitate to buy him a one-way ticket back even though she knew he would not have another opportunity to return to America.

I was not as strong as my mother, but she had taught me an invaluable lesson in love and marriage: You can’t stop someone from leaving. Before my own marriage, I had a few relationships in which “my lovers left me one by one like small rivers.” I was sad, but I accepted their departure and never held them back. I have found love for the time being. I will love with all my heart and soul. We will walk together in this journey through life and I won’t let go unless she wants to go. I will hold on if she wants to stay, but not if she wants to go—even if I had fallen madly in love with her.

As for education, I have a different view than Aunt Chín. Of course, education is important at any time, but it was heavier in her generation than mine. I must confess. I hated high school and college. My English was poor and my grades weren’t good. I went to school, but it felt like I went to prison. Especially during four years of college, I counted down each day until I finished serving my time to get a release paper. Why didn’t I drop out of school? The only reason was that I didn’t want to disappoint my mother. In Aunt Hai’s family, Cousin Minh and Cousin Karen graduated from college. In Aunt Năm’s family, Cousin Nhơn and Cousin Tam also graduated from college. Aunt Tư’s family had none. I wanted my mother to be proud of me and that was my motivation to prevent me from dropping out of college. I earned my BA with an average GPA. Fortunately, I found my skills in design; therefore, I taught myself to be a web designer.

I only started to love school when I was accepted into the master program in graphic design. Even though I had a full-time job and a family with young children, I studied hard. As a result, my GPA went up to almost 4.0. With my master, I was promoted to Director of Design and Web Services. Although I had risen to the director position, I still had to work for the people above me. If I were lucky, I would have a boss who would trust my expertise and provide me the flexibility to do my work. As of this writing, I have that boss. If I were not so lucky, I would have a boss who would micromanage my every step. Unfortunately, I had that type of boss and I was stressed out. I would never put myself in that position again.

In contrast, Cousin Duy is his own boss and he has succeeded in starting his own business. In retrospect, Duy inherited our grandfather’s genes in business. Unlike me, they worked for themselves. I had indeed tried to work for myself, but I didn’t have the business mind like Grandfather and Aunt Hai; therefore, I had to continue working for the people above my pay rate. Nowadays, Duy is doing well with his own business and he is happily married to his wonderful wife. They have two beautiful daughters. All that he needed now is a little boy to carry on the Lý legacy to fulfill our grandfather’s wish.

Let’s get back to Aunt Chín’s writing. Because these stories were meaningful to me and they will be more valuable to my kids later on, if they wanted to learn about their origin, I wanted to contribute in a small way. I asked Aunt Chín’s permission to allow me to edit these stories and put them together in a book form to preserve them. I was filled with joy when she gave me the permission to revise her stories.

I am not a writer, but I am a designer who enjoys writing and reading. I write on my personal blog everyday to hone my writing skills in English and Vietnamese, but this is the first time that I edit someone else’s work. It is a daunting task even though I just help fix spelling and make the prose flow better. At first, Aunt Chín only wrote in Vietnamese, then she translated her stories into English. For almost a month, I spent every late night and early morning editing the content, but I am sure I still missed many errors. If you spot anything, please contact me.

As for the book platform, I am a web designer; therefore, I created a web book instead of a printed book. A web book can easily be shared with family members anywhere. When I wrote my thesis for the Master of Arts in Graphic Design, I chose my topic in Vietnamese Typography as an experiment. My goal was to create a guide to help type designers around understand the Vietnamese language so they could design proper, legible, readable diacritics. I dug deep into my research on the history of the Vietnamese language and studied our writing system to provide a complete guide on the topic of Vietnamese diacritics. After I submitted my final thesis and received an A+, I listed my printed book for sale and launched a web version online. The printed version didn’t do too well because no one knew anything about me. The web version, however, attracted thousands of unique visitors each day. My web book reached type designers around the world. In return, they had hired me to review and make recommendations related to Vietnamese diacritics for their new typefaces. I am proud to play a small part in expanding and enriching our Vietnamese language.

Because of the success of Vietnamese Typography and the potential of the web for reaching people across the globe, I wanted to continue to create a web book instead of a printed book. If later on anyone in our family wanted to contribute, it would be easier. Whereas a printed book can’t be updated until the next reprint or a new edition, a web book can continue to be edited and expanded. I would like this website to be a living book.

At the same time, I want to maintain all the profile information for our family members including their official names, ages, birth dates, and death dates (for those family members who had left us). I would like to thank any family members who contributed to this project by sending in profiles and photos. Thanks to Cousin Minh for encouraging Aunt Chín to write. Once again, thanks Aunt Chín from the bottom of my heart for these incredible stories.

Goodbye Greg Tate

When I started writing about music, I wanted to read from music critics to get different perspectives. I don’t remember how I discovered Greg Tate’s writings, but I wanted to read more once I did. Tate had a distinctive style of writing and a criticism voice of his own. He went beyond music and pushed as far as he could on the page.

I wanted to learn and to emulate his writing. I pored over the Village Voice archive to read everything he had written. I read Flyboy in the Buttermilk several times. I read his Midnight Lightning: Jimi Hendrix and the Black Experience. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on a copy of Flyboy 2 and I pre-ordered it as soon as it was pre-released.

Even though I don’t write much about music anymore, I still have Tate’s voice in my mind. I was shocked to discover that he had passed away on December 7, this year. He was only 62. The cause of his death was undisclosed. America has lost one of its true cultural critics.

Rest In Peace, Greg Tate and thank you for inspiring and influencing many music writers, including myself, a self-proclaimed critic.

Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai: Hạt muối rong chơi

Tôi không có hứng thú đọc sách du ký. Đơn giản là tôi muốn tự trải nghiệm chứ không muốn đọc những quan sát của người khác. Khi đọc Hạt muối rong chơi tôi chỉ chăm chú vào cách viết văn xuôi của tác giả Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai. Tôi chú ý đến những cách dùng dấu phẩy, dấu chấm, và những từ ngữ thông dụng nhưng tôi ít dùng. Tôi hoàn toàn không để ý gì đến nội dung của những câu chuyện cũng như những chuyến đi của tác giả.

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