I should have known

How can a place that never knew me leave such a longing in my soul? How can a city or a country leave such an indelible impression on me. My life. My home. My heart.

I supposed I should have guessed that it was coming. It has been 18 months since Vietnam. Eighteen months since the suffocating heat of Saigon, the spices in the market, the smell of pho broth first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. In many ways it feels like my life began right there in central Vietnam on a beach next to the sea. There are so many memories of that time. The smells, the people. the texture of the sand and surf against my feet. The smell of that horrible fruit that was forbidden in so many of the hotels. I laughed when I saw the signs until I smelled it for myself.

Last week my mom was teasing me. She told me that someday Duc is going to meet a nice girl and bring her home to meet mama. He’ll brag about my pho (it is seriously as good as what I had in Vietnam) and spring rolls. He’ll tell her about my dipping sauce or any number of recipes I may master between now and then. I wonder how much of a surprise she will have when she sees that Duc’s mama is a white woman that can cook like her mama?

Yeah, I miss Vietnam. I miss my son’s first home.