Our family is far apart, but there is nothing happier than being together. Spring is coming and my grandmother is always the one who keeps the fire burning waiting for spring.
The ancient, peaceful village nestles beside the gentle Thai Binh River. The river flows through the village like a silver thread, the water gently flowing through the riverbank. Now every house uses tap water, but as an inherent habit, the elderly still go to the riverbank every early morning, when the space is still immersed in a hazy, fragile mist, touching the water feels warm and soothing.
Mrs. Thuan quickly scooped water to water the corn in the field. The sound of water hitting the bottom of the basket, the sound of scrubbing seemed to wake up the riverbank. The women in this village have been like this for generations. Towels draped over their shoulders, their hunched figures reflected on the water's surface, sometimes with nothing to do, they still go to the riverbank mainly to have an excuse to chat, to ask each other questions, each day with a different story, never getting bored, every morning without going to the bank, they feel empty and restless.
“Grandma! When will Quyen come home for Tet? Will she be able to come home a day earlier this year?” someone asked Mrs. Thuan. “I don’t know yet, auntie! We’ll probably know in a few days…” While answering, she was lost in thought. Actually, a few days ago, Quyen called her grandmother, also politely, asking for her opinion, but listening to her granddaughter’s way of talking, she understood that she wanted to travel with her friends this spring, somewhere in the Northwest. She immediately said: “Yes, I’ve been working all year, I don’t even have a summer off, I want to go and see how people celebrate Tet in other places…” Her warm voice made Quyen’s words light up on the other end of the line: “Oh! So happy! I thought you would object, so it took me a long time to say it.”
She always missed Quyen. Missed her so much that her heart ached. Her granddaughter had lost her father early, and her mother had remarried a man far away from the sea. At that time, Quyen's mother had tears in her eyes, bowing to her mother-in-law. She had to try very hard to convince her daughter-in-law to leave her granddaughter behind. If she had said it alone, it would have been impossible. On these early mornings washing clothes by the river, some comforted and consoled her... Quyen's mother could only control herself. And yet, in the blink of an eye, Quyen was now in her twenties. Her mother's new family was happy and united. Quyen had two younger siblings, but after graduating from university, her job was so busy that she could only visit her mother and stepfather a few times a year. Sometimes, her stepfather would pack up and go to the city on her behalf, bringing gifts from the sea to share with the whole boarding house. "You just worry about your work, when you have free time, remember to come back to grandma!", her uncle's words made Quyen's eyes sting. His uncle was sincere, warm, and always worried about Quyen's grandmother who had no one to take care of her.
*
On the tall xoan trees stretching towards the riverbank, clusters of ripe, golden-brown fruits hung suspended, swaying in the wind. The sound of "whistling... whistling..." somewhere high up, pairs of starlings sang in unison, singing loudly. Some mischievous birds stretched their necks, poked their beaks into the xoan trees, and sometimes pulled one leg up like a dancer performing an aerial dance. When Quyen was little, she loved watching this scene the most. Grandma was frying rice in a cast iron pan, urging her to eat breakfast, her clear, black eyes were still absorbed in looking at the xoan trees and then at the riverbank where the late-year sunlight was faintly filtering through the mist. That thick cast iron pan with a shiny interior is still there, Mrs. Thuan hung it in a corner of the kitchen. Whenever Quyen or her mother and step-father brought her siblings home, she would take it down. Making pancakes, frying rice, but now the colorful and bustling mixed variations make Quyen's siblings excited, and there is also the delicious braised meat in coconut water, boiling in the pan until it is almost dry, she waits for it to cool completely before packing it into boxes as gifts for her uncle's family.
Knowing that Quyen would not be home for Tet, Mrs. Thuan still carefully cleaned and arranged things. Bamboo shoots, wood ear mushrooms, and shiitake mushrooms were dried on trays in the yard. Peony buds were trimmed so that the flowers would be the biggest, most beautiful, and most brilliant during Tet. An equally important task was stripping the leaves from the peach trees. Mrs. Thuan carefully handled each branch, as if afraid that the tree would be hurt. After stripping the leaves, she would put them in a basket, take them to the wharf to wash, then wash them again with rainwater, dry them, and save them to make medicine to treat skin diseases for children in the village and the neighborhood.
Stripping peach leaves, she remembered Quyen when she was young, whenever the tree had bare branches, she would puff up her mouth to blow up balloons, and tie them to it to flutter in the wind. The little girl believed that doing so would make the peach tree happy, quickly sprout and bloom to celebrate Tet. Over the years, Quyen had come all the way back to this area, also stripping peach leaves with her grandmother, still remembering to collect the leaves to make medicine, but... Mrs. Thuan thought vaguely. When Quyen called, if her voice was just a little worried, or even if she was silent for a few seconds, surely her obedient grandchild would change her mind. But how could she do that? Quyen's childhood was difficult, lacking both material and emotional things, now she was alone making a living in the city, no matter where Quyen celebrated Tet, as long as Quyen was happy. Thinking like that, she still felt moved, looking forward, and sad.
*
“Grandma! What are you doing, Grandma?”, a voice called out, anxiously outside the gate. Mrs. Thuan stopped her work, walking slowly. “Oh, Quyen’s family, why did you come back so early this year?”, her words were full of surprise, love, and sobbing. She always called Quyen’s mother’s new family “Quyen’s family”, as if there had never been any distance or distinction. She wanted the family to become one, wanted Quyen to consider that place as a home to return to. “Yes, this year my boat set sail early, welcoming spring on the sea, I’ll take you and your mother back to Grandma, otherwise it will be too busy in a few days”, her uncle replied, his hands quickly stacking several baskets of leaves on top of each other. In a moment, the small house was bustling.
Quyen’s mother had gone into the house, unpacked the Tet gifts, sorted out which items she would offer to her ancestors, which were Tet foods, and when she was done, as was her old habit, Quyen’s mother took out the old clothes that were piled up in the corner of the clothesline on the kitchen porch, and brought them out to the wharf to dry. The two children ran after her. In the garden at this time, there were only her and her uncle. Her uncle was plucking peach leaves with her. The familiar family scene, connected as if there had never been pain, separation, no one was a stranger… she was so moved that she choked up.
In the past, her son also stripped peach leaves like that, also bent down to the base to check for stem borers, the place where peach sap oozed out was always unstable, had to be scrubbed, and lime powder sprinkled on. Now the distant son was devoted. On the day Quyen's mother was married off, the villagers kept encouraging her: "Consider it as marrying off your daughter." But deep down, she considered Quyen's uncle as her son, not her son-in-law.
- Knowing that Quyen wouldn't come back, you came back to me early, right? This will be a waste of time and work, my child! Mrs. Thuan's voice was broken and hesitant.
- Oh, come on, she thought, when your children come back, you should be happy. Come on, leave your hand like that, let me take a video, uncle changed the subject.
- What are you spinning around for? What's the other dish? she scolded lovingly.
- You don't know, but I'm a very famous TikToker these days! I go to the beach, film scenes of eating on the boat, fishing, squid fishing... and get a "storm" of likes. People even come to the fishing village to rescue seafood for me and everyone else, my uncle excitedly bragged.
- What "hybrid" thing, what "hybrid" thing that can sell seafood, where where, let's see?, Mrs. Thuan excitedly said.
Uncle took out his phone, grandma leaned in, watching with her eyes wide open, her mouth smiling. Uncle just posted a video of grandma plucking peach leaves, the narration was very cute and engaging: “Grandma Quyen and Bi, Bo are plucking peach leaves, everyone! Every year I don’t get to see this scene, this year I came back to grandma early and realized that Tet actually starts here, Tet is longer than we think! Mom is happy and healthy, taking care of Tet little by little, which gave me the idea for this Tet for Bi, Bo to stay here with grandma. Thank you everyone for enthusiastically liking grandma and me.”
*
“Does Mr. and Mrs. Ky’s garden have enough dong leaves for the neighborhood this year, Mom? Let me go over,” Quyen’s mother asked Mrs. Thuan while busy lighting the fire. “There’s a good harvest of leaves, my child. I’m planning to pack more for Bi and Bo to bring on the train.” She smiled kindly, looking out at the sunny yard, where the two children, just like Quyen when she was little, were blowing up balloons for their father to tie to the peach branches.
She remembered with a strange feeling, that day, when choosing peach branches to cut, burn the stem ends, and put them in a vase, Quyen kept begging to cut branches with balloons. And the whole village, the whole neighborhood was like that. Going to wish New Year's greetings, looking up at the vases, every house had peach branches with scattered flower buds, dotted with green, red, and yellow balloons. The fragrant smell of kitchen smoke, the crackling sound of burning firewood made the space even more nostalgic. Uncle Quyen was right, Tet actually started from this time, when every family thought about where to cut dong leaves, and dried bamboo shoots and vermicelli one more time to prevent the humid weather. Quyen's mother did not expect that when she bent down to do laundry at the riverbank, her husband stood behind and filmed emotional footage. “The whole family came back early, Mrs. Thuan, whenever her children and grandchildren came back, Tet would begin”, “There is nothing happier than seeing her children and grandchildren coming back from far away, Mrs. Thuan is truly blessed, with more children and grandchildren”, “I see that my aunt is healthier than before, she seems to be suited to the sea”… the people chatted noisily on the riverbank. In the distance, a few fishing boats leisurely floated like squid shuttles in the middle of the river, the sound of oars tapping and stirring fish could be heard.
“Ah! Sister Quyen is back, Sister Quyen is back, grandma! Mom and Dad!”, the two children almost shouted, running through the winding village road. One hung on to her, the other immediately put on her bag, then pulled over to her friends and smiled friendly: “Sister Quyen even brought her friends back, how wonderful”. “Oh my! Bi, Bo is so big! Do you miss me?”, Quyen leaned close to her sunburned hair and petted her. “I don’t miss you! I don’t miss you! Who told you to be away for so long”, the child pretended to be sulky but hugged her even tighter.
She leaned against the bamboo gate, her eyes filled with tears but shining with an indescribable joy. Mrs. Thuan could not believe her eyes, her lips trembled slightly, she called out: “Quyen is back! She is really back with me”. Her thin, wrinkled hands pressed against Quyen’s cheeks, rubbing her back affectionately. All the longing and waiting held deep in her heart burst into tears. She secretly cried, but strangely calm and peaceful.
In the evening, Mrs. Thuan took Bi and Bo to visit the neighbors, leaving only her uncle, Quyen and a group of friends sitting by the fire. Her uncle was meticulously grilling some sea fish on hot coals, the kind of fish that her uncle had carefully marinated. Quyen suddenly spoke up: “A few days ago, I watched the videos my uncle filmed at home, seeing grandma smiling, mom washing clothes at the riverbank, uncle plucking peach leaves and the kids blowing up balloons… it was so warm! I missed home! And my friends also admired my uncle very much. We decided to go home to celebrate Tet with our family.” Her uncle turned to Quyen with a gentle gaze. “Every passing moment is precious! My uncle has been at sea for many years, and I understand this even more. Our family is far apart, but there is nothing happier than being together. When you come back, my heart is warmed. We need to remember, grandma is home, and she always keeps the fire burning waiting for spring.”
LU MAI