Time for reflection always seems peculiar. I have this picture of my husband and his aunt, his father's youngest sister. On this day, we had gone to meet them in Gulf Shores for their annual/semi-annual vacation. We just drove down for the day. It was so beautiful. I snapped this pic while Rick was walking toward the beach with Aunt Frances. It just seemed perfect. Aunt Frances is his father's sister. His father that he never knew, but the one who knew him. I remember always watching Ricky with our children when they were the age I knew he was before his father passed away thinking, he knew his father like this. Our children adore him, and I am sure he was the same with his father. He describes growing up and always feeling as if someone was there with him, he believes his father. He and his brothers have grown up and stayed healthy, not in trouble, avoiding many of the pitfalls that we have watched friends get involved in. None of them have ever had a broken bone, needed surgery for anything, had to be put in the hospital for a sickness. They have ended up on the good side of fortune. Graduating from high school, staying out of the drug scene, healthy children, well liked. They grew up in a very rough part of town. It seems miraculous to me that their path has stayed good. I always believed there was someone watching over them.
On the other side of the picture, Ricky has two aunts, a family. Although millions of people in the world have extended families, some don't. I believe that leaves us with extended families most often taking it for granted and not realizing what we have, as compared to what others do not. For many years, Ricky did not have a relationship with all of his father's family. As a child, they went to Alabama and visited and met some relatives, but only once. Every once and awhile he would receive a letter from his aunt. I remember meeting him and always asking questions, too many I am sure. Always being amazed how he saw himself as Vietnamese, not American. It bothered me. I saw the story more along the lines of your father loved you enough to bring your family to America, not leave you in Vietnam because you were that important to him. You are American, and embraced more than you know. When the children were three, we took a trip to Alabama to meet some of his family. We had the opportunity to meet his father's younger sister, along with an amazingly huge, extended family. I truly believe both he and Howard (the little brother) were astounded and confirmed. It was the best feeling in the world. For both of them to be face to face with the other side of who they were, and realize that they were loved. I remember a particular memory from that visit. He had always told me about a baby picture of him, laying on his belly, smiling. I had even tried to recreate the picture with Hannah. He said when he was in grade school, he had brought the picture to school for Christmas and never received it back. His Aunt Frances brought a small photo album. When she opened it, there were pictures of his father and him, and that beautiful smiling baby picture. All of the pictures were in perfect condition, pictures his father had sent to his sister when he passed away. I felt breathless. Since that first visit, we have been to Alabama a few times, visited his aunts, stood where his father stood. His family has come to Louisiana, visited our home, celebrated a birthday together even. Some days it still amazes me to see the man he was when I met him and the man he has become. The one so unsure, and now the one so confident, embrazing his American "side", his other family. Realizing that he is like so many of his friends. He has cousins, he has aunts and uncles, he is loved. If there can be an even more amazing addition to the whole story, his family is wondeful. They are kind, good, loving people. I am always astounded by the fact that of the billions of people in the world, God gave us this family. How blessed we are. Amazing, simply amazing.
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