From: Vui Le
Sent: Sunday, June 08, 2003 2:16 PM
To: francis tran; Le, Van Phuc (Phil)
Cc: les gabriels
Subject: RE: Xin anh em va gia dinh Gabriels cau nguyen
Grandma
My wife Dung's Grandma died at the age of 90. She died
peacefully, but her spirit lives on.
The last time Dung and I visited her was two years before her
death. She was already weakened by the old age Her hearing, her
sight have all but gone. The cancer has eaten up more than half of
her lungs, and she was no more than just skin and bones. When we
were there, this frail old woman was so pleased to see us. She woke
up early each day working in the kitchen, preparing meals, smiling
and telling stories. She cooked Dung's favorite dishes, and made
Dung write down the recipes. In the evenings, she sat by my wife
holding her hands as she recited old events. She gave my wife all
her time and attention that she could. This shy and private woman
asked us to take many photographs of her on this trip. Before we
left for the airport, she embraced Dung for a long time, tears
swelled in her eyes as she made me promise to take care of Dung and
the kids. Dung cried all the way home.
We arrived to pay our respect early in the morning at the funeral
home. The small private room where the family congregated was full
of flower arrangements. Her small body was laid solemnly in the
oversized coffin. Lonely, serene and silent. The gentle music was
barely heard over the small talks of family members.
By the late morning, a small crowd of visitors gathered; and by noon
they moved her into the largest chapel of the place to accommodate
the gathering. Former President Nguyen Van Thieu showed up at noon
to pay respect to his aunt. At five o'clock in the late afternoon,
they buried her. The misty Northern California rain could not
disperse a crowd of more than five hundred people until late into
the evening.
You see, God has given Dung's Grandma a gift. Her gift was a gift
of self, and she had given it freely to persons of her contact. She
was the glue that binds the family together. She was the reason
that we had gotten to know parents, uncles, aunts, children, nieces
and nephews. She was the life of generations. In dying, she lived
on in each one of us.
As we pray for our departed dearests, remember them for their gifts
to us. I remember Nghia in his glasses. Skinny and tall, he was the
first one in our class to sport an inkling of a mustache. His sweaty
palms, his ever present smile, his artistic drawings, and his soccer
playing. Do you remember Trung? Remind us about Trung. Let us keep
the memories. Let our friends live on in our remembrance, for it is
through these recollections that we can celebrate the Gifts of God.
God bless us all and have mercy on their souls.
Vui Le
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