Exercise #10 /Creative writing

 Nam’s birthday was on 02/18. I texted him to ask if he had a cake. 

He said," Nothing. I am 51. No cake.”

I said: “No, you are not 51. You are 50. If you 51, that means I must be 54 which is I am not. I am 53.” He sent me a big yellow Moji for a laugh. “ I am counting using the Lunar New Year calendar.” 

Birthday celebrations in Vietnam were not a big deal in the past. We traditionally focused on remembering death day not birthday. The party for remembering the death day of the family members would be held with delicious food, flowers, and full of guests.

Birthday was not that important.

People here in the US asked me curiously. Why so. For a long time, I did not know why. I still do not know why.

Lately, I tried to be philosophical as I am getting older. I explained that life is believed suffering. That is why when the baby is born, the first thing the baby does is cry. Nothing to laugh about when your life ahead is all suffering. In contrast, when one dies, one is released from all suffering. That is how people tend to celebrate the death day as a way to say congratulations. You graduate from this life and be free.  May be!

In our family, we did not celebrate birthdays because we were dirt poor. Birthday cake would be beyond our reach.

I remember my mother would cook some sweet treats for us on our birthdays to celebrate.  Mostly she cooked mung bean, water, and sugar adding some gluten tiny balls to make the soup look and taste special. Again, if we were lucky enough to have sugar to cook the treat.

My mother’s artist friends bought flowers for her on her birthday when she was in the hospital. I remember my aunt and uncle criticized the flowers as gifts for my mother’s birthday. They said she had not died yet. Why did they bring flowers?

I remember when my little sister was one year old, Ba Minh’s wife baked her a birthday cake decorated with brown caramel slides of pineapple layers on top. Ba Minh’s whole family came to our apartment to celebrate my little sister’s birthday. I remembered all eyes were on her when she blew up the candle.

Ba Minh's family gave her a birthday gift wrapped with fancy paper. I was not sure there was a cute light blue horse or dog inside. Probably it was a horse as she was born in the year of a horse. 

I never saw a birthday cake before. I never saw a birthday gift before. I was thrilled. I was jealous of my little sister because of all the attention that she got as a birthday girl. 

That was the first and last birthday that my family and Ba Minh’s own family were together.

Things fell apart and stayed small pieces here and there for the last 40 years scattered throughout my life. Things would never be back like it was before. I know that.

For the last 5 weeks, I have been writing focused on trauma and loss with David Kessler and Andrea Cagan.

It has been a wonderful and powerful journey that I love and hate every second of it.

There are surprises, crying, sadness, and insights. 

There are assignments to help me to unpack my past for re-examination and re-appreciation. There are assignments to offer an opportunity to take a look at my past from different perspectives.  There are assignments for me to grow deeper into my psyche. There are assignments for me to pick up small pieces here and there and try to make sense of them.

I still have a lot of work to unpack and to write /re-write about. The long road ahead is empty but a bit clearer.

Right at this moment, I know one thing that makes sense.

I know no matter what, our little sister is our little sister. She is the best little sister one would dream of having. I got her as my sister right from the beginning she was born. We shared our father's last name and both shared our dearest mother's blood and flesh. We have been through the ups and downs together. 

Nothing can change that.

Looking toward the future, things have shifted in a better direction. 

I could soften my heart to grief Ba Minh with respect. Not with hate and madness. 

Ba Minh. Deep down inside my heart, I burnt one incense for you. 

After such a long time, this is time for me to set you to rest in peace. You successfully graduated from this life. You had done your part. 

Be free, Ba Minh.