Ăn Chung Với Bà Ngoại

My Story

Like many other families, my grandma was the one to watch and raise me growing up while my parents were working all day. One weekend, I was visiting home from college and she woke me up at 3am with a fresh made pot of canh thinking it was dinner time. Not too long after that incident, she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. She slowly started to forget the hours of the day, to eat and bathe, her way around the neighborhood, and eventually, me. Being the person that raised me and taught me Vietnamese, not only was I losing a mother figure, but also, myself. Handling this situation to the best of my family’s abilities, I was forced into the role of caretaker during one of my college summer breaks. I decided that I would learn how to cook Vietnamese food in an attempt to keep my grandma alive both physically and spiritually.

When her Alzheimer’s got worse, she forgot me - I had short hair at the time so she thought I was some random boy in her house, but I started to explain that I was her best friend and that I hadn’t visited in a long time - it took a little warming up but she finally lit up and frantically searched around the kitchen for utensils and ingredients to cook with (to no avail since we had child-proofed the stove for her own safety) she then called my name (Thỏ) out loud to come so I can cook for the stranger (myself) she remembered me and didn’t remember me - there were many moments like this that would drive me to tears in front of her and then she would always ask if it was her own behavior that drove a random stranger to tears - she knew and didn’t know at the same time.