Reflections from an Ocean away
Reflective fragments, excerpts, bits from my journals, both paper and electronic since meeting my birth family.
Waking up in a hostel in Hà Nội with sweat on your face, or maybe it was tears, is never the best way to start the voyage to Ha Long Bay. Good thing I’m on the top bunk and no one can see me. I am wilting on the inside.
On the way to meet my sister in Long An. She’s a buddhist nun. She comes out from the monastery living quarters to meet me. I see so much of myself in her. She puts her hand in mine. Her smile is contagious, her laugh is synonymous with joy. She bugs me about not knowing my mother’s tongue. She calls me “Em” so I call her “Chị”. She tells me Mẹ gave her up when she was 7. So I wasn’t the only one. She is grateful that I am not mad at our mother. She assumed I never came back because I was mad (2).