Ba: My caretaker, my teacher, my hero

How do you write a eulogy? How do you reduce the richness and depth of a person's life into a few minutes? I knew that I had to write from my heart and I had already done that Monday night, so I based my grandmother's eulogy on that post. I wanted to put this up for those who could not be at the funeral services and for those who want to re-read. Thank you for your sympathy.

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Dear guests, Kihn thua cac Cu, bac, co chu, chau muon xin loi, chau khong noi tieng viet kha. Chau muon noi truyen ve ba noi chau tu long, tu ruot, Chau phai dung tieng anh. (This is me apologizing for not doing the speech in Vietnamese.)

It is an honor for me to have been asked to speak about my grandmother as we come together to celebrate her life. It means a lot to me to be able to share with you what a remarkable woman she was.

Born in 1919, she was tuoi Ky Mui, or Earth Sheep. We shared the same zodiac sign, me and my grandmother, or as I called her just Bà. People can be of the same Vietnamese zodiac animal but differ in the heavenly stem associated with that year, so it is worth mentioning that we are both Ky Mui. I wonder if that has anything to do with how close I feel to her.

According to some sources this means that we are supposed to be: Righteous, sincere, sympathetic, creative, gentle, compassionate, mothering, determined, peaceful, generous. Can be indecisive, over-passive, worrier, over-sensitive, complainer. I am not sure whether I am all these, but if I am anything like my grandmother, I am lucky.

Yes, she was a worrier and mothering and compassionate, but to all of us she was our caretaker, she was our teacher and she was our hero.

Ba had the best garden! I used to love walking and playing with my brothers among her roses, peach trees, and other flowers. I attribute her green thumb to her discipline and love. Every day, after her morning exercises she would tend to her plants with care and compassion. Down to the trashcan that collected rainwater and condensation, she paid attention to every detail. Just as she fed and watered her plants until they blossomed, she also guided, nourished, and cared for her children and grandchildren. She used to make me put on my sweater every time I went outside. I didn't like it because my long sleeve would get bunched up in the sweater's sleeve as she put my arm through and it felt uncomfortable. "Did you eat?" meant "I love you." If I was being a fussy eater, Bà would take me and my bowl of food to the front yard. There she would distract me by pointing and the birds and asking "what is that?" in Vietnamese. As my mouth opened in awe or to say WOW, in came a spoonful of rice. I fell for it every time until my meal was done.

After she moved out of the LA house and into the one in OC, I would occasionally bring food to her and my uncle. By this time she was strictly vegetarian, I was finished with college, working in the area, and Bà was beginning to need help with day-to-day activities. So I volunteered to trim her fingernails and toenails. I have to admit that when I pulled off her sock the first time to clip her toenails, I was disgusted. I never thought I would be that close to someone’s feet before. But as I clipped and cut and massaged her toes, I felt an overwhelming sense of humility. I am so fortunate to be able to do this. I was thankful I had the time, energy, and ability to come over and help. This brought me so much closer to her.
Eventually, these visits became routine. I would trim nails at the same time to remind myself that she was due for a trim--if my nails were long, so were hers. My Vietnamese isn't very good, but we were able to work out an understanding, a fair trade. After I finished with her mani/pedis and she ate her food I sat there and she told me stories. Everyone of us remembers her stories. She told me about how as a child she was a little rascal who used to hop over fences and eat fruit from neighbors' trees. It was funny how she punctuated every sentence with a “Troi Dat Oi” "Mô Phâ.t!" or a clap, as she laughed with her entire body.

She told me how the family used to have a cement company in Northern Vietnam until they had to move South, away from the invading forces. It was all so fascinating to me. I loved listening to her. She spoke with her hands and you could see every emotion come through her expressions: the excitement, the fear, the relief that they made it through.
Even in times of war and chaos my amazing grandmother was able to keep her family safe. After the Fall of Saigon in 1975 she was able to reunite everyone. Even 10, 20, and 30 years after being in the United States, her children living all over she was still able to reunite people for her birthday. She is even bringing the family together today to celebrate her life and help her pass onto her afterlife. This is what makes her my hero.

There is so much more; it would take days for me to recount every detail. There is a photo collage board I prepared in the back, filled with memories. After the service, I invite you to take a look at it. Though I could have, I did not fill the board completely. There are still empty areas where many of other people’s memories of Bà can fit. A few of my cousins wanted me to share some words with you about her:

Chi Quynh Christine – Colorado
Bà was such an amazing person--I do remember all of her passionate/fiery storytelling, and all the loving meticulousness she always put into caring for family when she was young and able. It was hard to see her age, especially in these last years.

Chi Tu – New Orleans
I am so blessed to have Ba as my grandmother. She was a such joy to be around. Her laughs were always loud and so cheerful. She was a brave, caring, thoughtful and wonderful woman. I loved the way she told stories. They were intense, exaggerated, and so interesting. I will cherish the memories I have of her and the times we spent together. I will miss her greatly. I love you, Ba.

Chi Lan Anh – New Orleans
Ba was such an incredible and nurturing person; when we visited, she always made sure we were comfortable and never hungry. I have many fond memories of Ba, all of which are filled with lots of joy from the times when she was strong and lively. The most memorable to me were the times when we sat at the dining table, eating her Rice Crispy treats while she told us stories from Vietnam
I'll also never forget walking to the grocery store with Ba. When it came time to pay, she would pull out money from her home-made secret pocket. I remember thinking how neat that was, such a clever idea.
Living so far away from Ba, I didn't get a chance to be with her as much as I wish I could have, but the wonderful memories I have of her will remain vivid and will constantly be in my thoughts.
Ba, I miss you and love you very much.

In her last month I tried to come by once a weekend to help change her diaper, get her out of bed, feed her. I got to know Bà in her most vulnerable state. I did things for her I never imagined I'd do for another person. Most of these interactions were done in silence because her hearing was so far gone she didn't wear her hearing aids anymore. Crude sign language, eye contact and smiles. No more stories. Just smiles. I saw her last Saturday. She didn’t want to eat and was being fussy. So I put on her sweater, making sure he shirt sleeve did not get bunched up in the sweater sleeve, and I wheeled her outside in her wheelchair, around the neighborhood. I pointed and showed her the big white ducks. And she said her own version of WOW.

On the morning that we found out she passed away, one of my aunts gave me a big hug and thanked me for helping to take care of Bà. I told her not to thank me and I meant it. It was all my pleasure. I had the privilege of spending time with her. Being able to hear the stories. Doing for her what she did for me when I was too young to do it myself. To take care of her. To be with her. I should be the one doing the thanking.

Thank you Bà, my caretaker, my teacher, my hero. I love you.