Mum & Papa: the once-upon-a-time portrait of a military Romeo and his hopeless-romantic, college-age Juliet
Memorial Day, 2019. As I was taking a stroll down PCH in Huntington Beach, seeing so many families and friends out at the beach gathering around the barbecue pits, I thought about how many may believe today is nothing more than a BBQ and a day at the beach — until they remember the friends or family members they’ve lost.
The Fall of Saigon, was the day I lost my father (Papa). No, he didn’t get killed in a war, but as Saigon fell, many lost their lives and many, like my papa, were taken away as POWs. For the next 13.5 years, Papa lived in the torment of a prison cell, while Mum took on all the roles of mother, father, and teacher to both my brother and me.
Papa was mighty handsome. One star shy of being a General. A close confidant and one of the main translators for the late General William Westmoreland. He had plenty of Western and Eastern beauties from all over the world whom he fell in love with or who fell in love with him. He was talented, ambitious, full of conviction, and definitely a no-holds-barred fighter. He spoke 5–6 different languages, including German, English, French, Chinese, and Vietnamese. But as fate and destiny collided, he fell madly in love with my mother (Mum). Papa was more than a decade older than Mum, but that didn’t matter because when the love is true, age is just a physical factor, but it is the love that is the connection between two souls, as Mum has always said. Mum fell for him hard when they first met because of how articulate and charming he was, not to mention, she said, how he looked so much younger than his age.
Mum didn’t lack much either. She was a beautiful soul, gorgeous inside and out — an independent, educated woman who spoke a few languages, though not as many as Papa did. Vietnamese was her birth language, and having grown up during the French colonialism era, when France ruled Vietnam for more than six decades, she learned French, later working for the Embassy where French (and some English) were needed. When Saigon fell and Papa was taken away, the war left Mum with a toddler who barely knew how to walk (my brother) and a baby in her arms (me). (I will skip the next part as it’s already written in my book, Wall Street Cinderella.)
Growing up, I never had a single photo of my Papa holding me in his arms because Mum said he never had a chance. I only have one black-and-white shot of him holding my brother. It is only from that picture that I can feel the warmth of being held in the strong masculine arms of a father. I would never have that moment. While I didn’t technically lose any loved ones in the war, my father being a POW for 13.5 years makes me wonder if, in a sense, I didn’t lose more.
Where are Mum and Papa today? I am thankful to say I still have both. But it is not “happily ever after” as one would imagine. You see, after Papa was released from prison and Mum sponsored him to America to reunite him with his family, things were never the same. Mum never remarried or moved on after Papa was captured. She could have, given how beautiful she was, still in her thirties, but she was so loyal to the man she loved that she devoted that loyalty to raising her two children. There were countless men who courted my mum, of course — with her beauty, charm, and independence — but in her mind was just one man whom she had once loved before a war had split them apart.
Once they were reunited here in America, they tried hard to rekindle their once whirlwind romance, but after a few short years, knowing it would never be the same again, both quietly parted ways and remained friends. (I will reserve the details concerning their romance when they met again in America until I pen Part 2 of Wall Street Cinderella.) Papa currently lives with his side of the family, and Mum … well, I take care of Mum. 😁👏 Mum still hasn’t remarried, and what she taught me is to hang on to what is in the present because once it passes, it will never be the same.
I’ve learned so much from Mum and the Papa I never knew I had. Still, I believe the person that I am today was solely created, built, and manifested from the traits of these two souls. The strength, independence, and loyalty that a woman can offer a man and the ambition and conviction of a fighter of a man who had the love and respect of his country, his military brothers, and the woman he once had a whirlwind affair with, who became the mother of his children.
On this Memorial Day, we remember and honor all who served and all the heroes who have fought and died for our freedoms. And, Papa, thank you for your sacrifice for your country when that sacrifice has caused you to lose nearly everything!
Just as Instagram is the modern-day photo-sharing site where one can connect the dots of 21st-century romances through digital photos, I can certainly connect the dots viewing old black-and-white photos of my parents to pen a romance novel: the once-upon-a-time portrait of a military Romeo and his hopeless-romantic, college-age Juliet.
