Happy 4th of July!

My grandfather died on the fourth of July, of the year two thousand and nine.

How very ironic. I fully expected to have a fantastic holiday weekend and spend some quality time with my cousin and brother.

The phone call came around 2:30 AM of that fateful day. The house was coated with a thick film of darkness and the obnoxiously loud shrieks of my mother can be heard throughout my home. When the phone call ended, we learned in between the sobbing that my grandfather was on life support in a hospital in Saigon or Ho Chi Minh City, whatever you want to call it.

At approximately 2:45 AM on the fourth of July, the doctors pulled the plug and my grandfather suffocated in his sleep.

I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of loss from the event. When I was 13-the last time I visited Vietnam-I visited my grandfather’s room every day to listen to his stories and how he lived his life. The short 4 weeks that I spent with him was enough to last me a lifetime and made me realize how much I have lost from his death. His stories inspired me to pursue my goals and dreams of a better life for my family. He was such a kind person and I knew that he loved me as much as I loved him, no, he loved me more than that.

When my grandmother called to ask whether I was going to visit them, I was crushed. My passport had expired a year ago and I did not bother to renew it; but, there was a different reason. My family no longer had any more money to support another trip to Vietnam. We simply can no longer afford it as we could have in the past.

The melancholy atmosphere stayed with me for the rest of the afternoon. I wanted to tell somebody.

James had invited me to the Point for a 4th of July hang-out. When we arrived, we found a Chinese choir singing a song praising Jesus. I was fascinated by the beautiful melody and the encrypted language of the Chinese.

I was also blessed to have felt the kindness of a woman who offered to teach us Chinese; in an instant, I momentarily forgot all of my sadness and began my study of an alluring, yet arcane language. I learned the correct pronunciation of “wo ai ni” (I love you) in Mandarin among a few other things. I realized that all of my friends who used Chinese words had, in some way shape or form, mispronounced the language and that there was an even larger world of complicated linguistics associated with the Chinese Language.

It fascinated me, I wanted to learn more about the language. I asked her if I could learn some more Chinese from her and she told me to meet with her every Saturday at 7 PM. James and I left our meeting place feeling very contented and happy with ourselves.

We soon saw Marcus, Victoria, and Kathy. After learning how to do two line dances, I asked to talk to Marcus and James in private. I had wanted to tell them of the tragedy today separately, but I wasn’t so sure if I could repeat it twice.

“My grandfather died today.”

The reaction was a mixed one. One full of puzzlement and astonishment. Saying the words itself did not bring out any kind of emotion within myself either, I then proceeded to tell them about my grandfather.

When I started recounting the times I spent with him, a deep sense of irreplaceable loss overwhelmed me and I found that I am capable of crying, not just tears flowing down on my cheek, but the pouring sensation of tears smothering your cheeks. You could not control or stop these tears. I cried at my uselessness and my regret for not seeing my grandfather one more time before his death. I regretted every moment I could have spent with him but did not. I cried because I realized that I may also not be able to see my grandmother before she dies as well.

I was a sobbing wreck and I felt two pairs of hands pulling me aside to find a place to sit down.

Almost immediately, I realized that I was very selfish. I ruined a perfectly good day for my closest friends and made a fool of myself.

I stopped crying and apologized for it.

Feeling very sheepish, I put on a facade and tried to change the subject. I told them that I was stronger now and I wanted to share with them this very important piece of information.

I got a hug from a very special person to me. Thank you so much for the hug. I value it far more than you know.

After that, I accompanied my mom to the San Francisco International Airport to see her off to Vietnam.

I arrived home, watching the clock strike twelve marking the beginning of a new day.

Many people have fond memories of a family picnic and merry celebrations on the 4th of July. I was once like them, savoring every moment of their holiday. For some individuals, they remember the day of colonial independence from their English counterparts.

But for me, the fourth of July will forever be, to me, the day of my grandfather’s independence from the physical world.