I As I begin to write these lines, I think I may awaken some familiar feelings that time has already erased, and I may also disturb the peace of my departed father. But I am forced to do so, and I ask readers to be lenient with my inexperienced pen, given the reason that prompted me to take it up. And the reason is that I would like to protect my father. My father's name was Thuan, the eldest son of the Nguyen family. In our village, the Nguyen family is the largest, second only to the Wu family in terms of the number of adult boys. My paternal grandfather once studied Chinese literature, and then taught. He had two wives. The first one, after giving birth to my father, died a few days later, and my grandfather was forced to remarry. His second wife was engaged in dyeing fabrics. I don't remember her face, but they said she was a very tough woman. It is clear that, living with my stepmother, my father from the very childhood drank dashing. And at the age of twelve, he ran away from home. He joined the army and has rarely been seen in his native land since. Around the year 19... my father came to the village to get married. Surely he didn't marry for love. He only had ten days off and a lot of things to do. And love, it requires conditions, including time. When I was growing up, I knew absolutely nothing about my father. I suppose my mother didn't know much about him either. He had given his whole life to the war. Then I went to work, got married, and had two daughters. My mother has grown old. And my father kept disappearing somewhere. From time to time, however, he came home, but each time for a short time. Even his letters were very short, although I knew that there was a lot of love and concern behind these lines. I am an only child and I am very grateful to my father for everything. I got an education and went abroad. I fully owe the financial situation of my family to my father. The house I live in, located between downtown and the outskirts, was built eight ye ... Read more