Dad didn’t talk much. When he did, he liked to talk about current events and cooking. He was an amazing chef. I always wished I could cook like Dad. He made this delicious steak with a lemon grass spicy fish sauce dip. I remember right before Dad passed, my brother tried to replicate it but it wasn’t the same. I told him to ask Dad about it before he doesn’t get the chance. My brother is still trying to figure out my dad’s recipe.
After Dad passed, we had to get ready for the funeral. I searched for as many pictures as I could, mainly to hold on to him as long as I could, but also to share with others. Dad was not a super social person. Not many people really knew Dad other than that he was extremely nice, a good cook, very smart and very handy.
The first picture is a self portrait Dad took at the refugee camp before boarding a plane from Thailand to the United States of America in 1976. He has a slight grin. He’s definitely happy. He looks relaxed as he usually was. I don’t think I remember seeing him stressed out, maybe a few times. He was usually very calm and content. He never really paid much attention to his appearance, only enough for Mom not to nag him too long. His hair looks like he just woke up. He was newly married to Mom and she was pregnant with her first child.
The second picture is Dad’s view looking out of a plane window waiting to take off to America. I had seen this picture before in Mom’s drawer when I was a kid. I asked her what this picture was. She said nothing, just a plane and stuck it back in her drawer. Mom’s responses to my questions were always very similar. She brushed off many questions maybe so she didn’t have to go into detail? Or, maybe because she didn’t really understand the importance of something. When I came across it again recently, she said to throw the picture away. “It’s nothing.” So, I’m guessing it’s the latter. She doesn’t understand the importance of it because otherwise, why did we keep this picture for so many years?
My parents were sitting on this plane that would take them from the only life they’ve ever known to a completely different world. This was an entirely different culture, language, and food they had only heard about. Hopefully a place of peace and freedom for a life they wanted for their new family. This picture of a plane and Dad’s self portrait is all I have of Dad and that day. This is also Mom’s first time on an airplane leaving her family behind. This was the start of a new beginning. How is this nothing? The plane is a symbol of being saved, freedom, and hope. That’s something!
My family never really talked about the details of our history and how we ended up in America when I was growing up. I only knew that my family came from various villages in Cambodia. Dad was from the city and Mom was an islander. Things got bad so they risked their lives and escaped. These stories took me years to get out of my family because the stories are so horrific, it need not be mentioned again. Who wants to talk about slavery, torture, and murder of the real life? Absolutely no one.
Family History Unknown 