Illustration by DANG HONG QUAN
And sitting alone in the early morning with a cup of tea full of thoughts. The day with him had begun like that.
It begins with the sound of water simmering over the fire. Tea smoke wafts from the outer room.
In the past, he rarely forgot to bring the first cup of tea to burn incense and invite her mother, but later he couldn't remember.
Because my health is getting weaker, my knees are tired and my legs are shaking, and the altar is placed on the mezzanine, having to go up and down the stairs is not good.
Her father is very old. He is almost ninety years old and there are few people like him!
Later, she asked her family to buy her a bell so she could call her children and grandchildren. The first bell her father always rang was exactly at five o'clock.
That was the sound of her waking up to go swimming.
She had had that habit since she was very young. The bell rang to let her know that her day had begun. On sleepless nights, she lay quietly in bed listening to her father's bell ringing, incessantly.
The bell woke her up. On cold winter nights, in a comfortable room with a warm mattress and soft blankets, she slept deeply, but she was afraid to hear the bell ring.
Afraid... of being woken up. Afraid of having to sleepily close one eye and open the other. On mornings like this, I find these sounds so unpleasant.
Even though he never went anywhere and just stayed around the house, his father always carried the bell with him. Wherever the bell rang, he knew his father was there.
In front of the door, sometimes to tell her that there is an argument in the neighborhood. Behind to remind her that she forgot to close the gate.
She always ran to her father when she heard the bell ring. To see if he had something to tell her. To see if he was okay. To ask questions, to chat...
The bell that my father rang was so soulful. That's what I thought! It carried my father's orders and reminders.
The bell rings with father, blends with father, rings like a symbol. When father is happy, when father is sad, when father is weak, when father is strong...
On normal days, when there is little work, the ringing of the bells in the house is somewhat less frequent. On Tet holidays, it is continuous. The urgent, hurried, urging ringing of the bells makes her feel flustered, sometimes. Father rings the bell to ask her if the banh tet has been taken out yet, if the water on the altar has been filled yet...
Father rang the bell to let her know that there were guests at home. And they were guests during Tet. Oh my! There were many children and grandchildren coming to visit their father and grandfather, burning incense on the altar. Then there were her business friends, her school friends, her art friends.
Again, the neighbors and relatives. Happy, father forgot to take a nap and did not bother to go to bed early at night.
Father is awake. The bell is awake with father. It keeps ringing incessantly. The joyful and bustling sounds of spring. Tet seems to not come from outside and rush into her house.
But from the warm home of her father and daughter spread. From the sound of her father's bell, there was so much laughter, joy, and happiness. If her father didn't sleep, how could the bell stop ringing? How could he rest freely during the first three days of spring?
The house has not had the sound of a bell ringing for years. Late at night, before going to bed, she has to set the alarm clock so she can wake up early to go to the beach. She misses the familiar sounds from the first moments of the day until late at night...
From spring through autumn, summer and winter. From the old year through the new year.
(Dedicated to Ms. MA)
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