Leisure talk: Migratory wings

My nephews said that Australia is entering autumn, the weather is very nice. My sister said that Ninh Hoa after a few days of rain, the weather is sunny again.

The sea in my hometown is so beautiful this season. Another nephew sent a message, Saigon has hot sun in the morning, stormy rain in the afternoon. The rainy season in the South has arrived. My aunt sent a Zalo message, Hanoi has suddenly turned cold, making the streets so beautiful. When will you come back to the North to visit everyone? My second brother in Canada confided that Guelph has just entered spring, flowers are blooming everywhere. His eldest daughter has a law degree, preparing to move to Toronto to work. Where I live in the eastern United States, the weather this year is very erratic. It has suddenly turned cold, even though the cicadas have awakened after a decade of slumber, calling out the summer's melancholy call.

We are like migratory birds flying everywhere in Vietnam and all over the world. If my mother were still alive, seeing her children and grandchildren scattered everywhere, she would be very sad. My mother is a classic country girl, loving her grandchildren more than anything else in this world. To her, even though we have gray hair, we are still children who have just grown up and do not understand the world. My mother often compares herself to a hen, always wanting to keep her children and grandchildren close to her, not wanting to leave, so that she can see each other every day and find joy in life. There are more than ten children in the family, but my mother is determined not to let any of them go to work far away. She is resourceful, coming up with all kinds of things to do so that we can work together to earn a living, living a simple life in the countryside, instead of struggling in a stormy foreign land. And especially, never talk about asking to adopt my mother's child. When I was young, there was an aunt who liked and loved me very much, and kept asking my mother to let me be her adopted child. She smiled, if you like it, take it home and play with it for a few days, then return it to me. I can't bear to give it away because it's my own flesh and blood.

Although we love the sunny and windy land of Ninh Hoa to the point of heartache, sometimes we have to leave our hometown to pursue education, career, and job opportunities in a life full of hardships and temptations. Then, on sad afternoons when she misses her children and grandchildren, my mother often sits on a chair in the front yard, watches the sunset and blames this child for not coming to visit her, that child has disappeared without a trace or letter, leaving this old lady sitting here waiting and looking forward.

When we first came to America, we didn't know when we would be able to visit our hometown. We missed home, so we had to buy calling cards and didn't dare use landline phones because if we got too excited and said too much, the bill would hit us in the face at the end of the month. We often chatted with each other using Yahoo! Messenger via phone lines, the webcam was so jerky it was pitiful. Now, the distance in space and time is shortened a lot thanks to calling apps with sharp, clear images. We called each other dozens of times a day, talking about everything under the sun. Sometimes we didn't say a word, just turned on the video and left it there. Listening to the dogs barking, the chickens crowing, we felt so close even though we were tens of thousands of kilometers apart. Besides, we also earned a lot of money working now. Every year, we arranged to visit home a few times to visit our relatives.

The good thing is, whether we are in Vietnam or far away in Australia or America, we still try to gather together, stay close to each other, and rely on each other to live. So that every time we have free time, we can sit down and eat dinner, telling each other memories of our parents, our carefree childhood, our family of more than ten people living together, sharing each bowl of rice mixed with cassava and sweet potatoes, some duck eggs dipped in fish sauce, or the salty squid that smells of the sea. No one has ever beaten us, but all of a sudden we all sit there and cry.

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/nhan-dam-nhung-doi-canh-thien-di-185250614185345497.htm