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Of Death and the Likes
After visiting Granny’s, my son often busted into tears in his
sleep. Momsaid it must be my late cousin cuddling the child. She
then conversed withthe spirit, “Show your love, but don’t scare the
poor little boy.” he child
was never disturbed again.
My cousin passed away when she was four. ! blamed it on the
denguefever, on our family’s ignorance, and on the inept healer,
who simplyignored her s"in rash. #ne day, he returned my cousin and
informed us ofher “unluc"y fate”. ! still remember her warm body
wrapped in the arms of my aunt when stepping out of the boat.
She had a chubby face anddimpled chee"s. $er body used to be as
sturdy as a lotus tuber, or a %ac"fruit seed.
! was twelve bac" then, too na&ve and foolish to learn about
death. herewas nothing li"e it. ! used to lose my money, my
hairpin, my preciousagate bracelet, but ! could either retrieve or
rebuy them. 'ven when mydearest soul mate moved away, we would
reunite once in a while (torealise that we were fading in each
other’s mind, which might be anothertype of death). *ut my cousin
stayed in silence forever.
+eath meant no second chance.
My family tried to hold our tears for fear that Granny might
su-eranother heart attac". et she couldn’t help. She cried her
heart out,
caressing my cousin’s body, which was turning cold. /eople
warned us notto shed any tears on her dead body, or her soul would
never cross over. hey were late0 my tears were all over her
arms and nec".
1or a long time, ! wondered if it were my tears that held her
bac". 2ateron, a grey butter3y would visit our home. !t’s her,
Granny said. My +ad, aman of science, e4plained that the shade
trees in our garden attracted thebutter3y. hat ghosts weren’t real.
*ut Granny still insisted on hergrandchild’s e4istence, in forms of
the grey butter3y, the star fruit fallingat midnight, or the wind
blowing through the bamboo grove. And thus !was no longer scared of
ghosts. 1or the ghost was my cousin with s"in as
white as pomelo 3owers, with chubby face and dimpled chee"s, and
evenher imperfect speech, why should ! be scared of5
My aunt gave birth to another child. he butter3y would drop by
everyday. She’s afraid of being forgotten, Granny said. he child
got sic" withevery of the spirit’s visit. Granny whispered to the
void, “+on’t do that toyour sibling, dear6”
Granny sent her ash to the pagoda. he second farewell was %ust
as sad. Afew days later, the butter3y returned. +id you behave
well5 +id you obey
the nuns5 Granny as"ed as if her grandchild had never passed
away.
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And thus we survived the pain6
o me, my cousin was never lost. She lives in all the
children ! meet andhug. /ure and warm, they’re twittering and
dancing through life.7henever my son gets sic", whenever ! have to
send him away, ! thin" of
her. 7henever ! pass by a s"inny child trembling in the cold, a
snivellingchild on the street, or a feverish child resting against
a chopping8boardsurrounded by 3ies in the mar"et, ! thin" of her.
And ! would hold theirhands tight, as ! would do to her’s.
rinh 2e ranslated from 9guyen 9goc u’s “:e ;ai ;het
:a 9hung +ieu uong u”
