This person is the one who has been living with me for a rather long time. Almost forty years, how short can it be!
Illustration: DANG HONG QUAN
As fate would have it. He was born on February 28. I was born on December 24. We both have the number 2 in the day and the number 2 in the month. Sometimes I think it’s just two, so it’s just two, just two. No more family members. But, how lucky we are that it’s still two and still two until now.
When I first met him, he was a skinny guy and I affectionately called him "leuk" in my cheesy love letters. And that skinny guy lived with me for all those years, but still couldn't gain weight.
I often joke that I have no hands to raise children. Other people's husbands move and get fat, wave their hands and they gain weight. The older they get, the bigger they get. They look very cool!
Yet here I am, either soaring or sluggishly going through months and years, my weight index still remains the same. What a strange person! Gaining a gram is so hard, but losing a kilo is like playing a game.
Hearing me complain, he pouted: "Looking at the strong, it's hard to live long. Skinny, weak, and sickly, it's hard to live long."
And what else could I do but giggle in response. I thought to myself: Just keep going like that! Just hanging out together is so much fun. Living my life slowly is also great…
Happy to still hold on to this person. Holding on to the strong, loose, and careless feelings, but still lingering together. Sitting together every morning with the faint scent of coffee. Then the taste of a couple, salty, with the smell of braised fish burning the evening meal. And a cup of hot milk, sniffing, late night sleeps. The skinny young man in his youth, skinny in middle age, and hunched in old age.
The young man of that day and the man of today still have the same old laugh, sitting style, way of playing, way of eating… Still the same fragile, precarious sound of the guitar, during the days when the soul is full of uncertainty. And this life and this home seem to be unstable. And, still the sound of the guitar beats the rhythm of a happy and healthy life when the storms pass and joy and happiness have returned.
…No matter how many times it has been our housemate’s birthday, we still wait in the same mood. We wish him the simplest birthday possible and completely depend on the situation.
There was a birthday party of a friend who came from far away and surprised us with a small party at a restaurant. Knowing the couple’s intentions, the guests were only a few close people. There was a birthday party that started with a hug in the morning, but that night was really interesting. The guests were some young friends who had been close to us for a long time. They must have made an appointment because they came all at once with flowers, cakes, wine and a reunion, that night was so warm!
Of all, the most memorable was a birthday about thirty years ago. The whole group came to our house after the show ended. Back then, we were all on stage together at a music bar.
No one knew who had reported it and no one seemed to mind when the tiny house did not have enough space for everyone. They had to huddle together on the porch under the eggplant tree. Drinking water was enough, but there was not enough food, wine, and food to fill their stomachs… even though the cold rice had been searched and cleaned out.
The last of the few rice paper rolls that my family had available was hastily dipped and quickly chewed. Food and drink were exhausted, but there was no need to worry about laughter and banter. The most crowded and poorest birthday we had ever had, was, after all, an unforgettable birthday.
Not used to the elaborate, flowery ways of expressing and understanding in silence, is: the days of being together and being together are running out. So we cherish and nurture our married life more as each month, each year and each birthday passes, will pass...
Source: https://tuoitre.vn/mung-tuoi-moi-mot-nguoi-20250302095645292.htm
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