Thoughts on love
Today my mother shared with me some of her observations after several years living with my brother and sister-in-law. She claimed my brother is such a romantic husband, and I was skeptical: “Are you sure?”. My mother replied: “He brought her to watch movies, go shopping and travel! It’s so nice! I have never been anywhere”. I laughed: “Mom, for my generation, watching movies, going shopping and travelling together are very common things every couple does, it is not considered particularly romantic though”. The more I thought about our conversation, the more I found it interesting to compare the idea of romance between our two generations.
My mom was born during the Vietnam war, the year Republic of Vietnam in the South was proclaimed. Both my grandfather and my father, as well as most of the men in our city went to war. During my mother's youth, unlike us, she did not go to any music festivals or movie dates, she learned to carry a rifle, she refused to attend university so that she could help out my grandmother in the rice field, she walked 18 km a day and sometimes the road was filled with landmines.
I strongly feel that for my mother and many Vietnamese women of her generation, love’s meaning lies in sacrifice for their country, family and children. My mother did not have any fancy wedding photos (none at all, in fact), and she was left alone raising my brother while my dad and his troops operated along the Vietnam border. During a time when romantic love was considered a weakness and people’s lives are threatened by famine, there was very little room for “romance”.
I was born after the war ended, there was no military aircraft in the sky, no fighting, no bombs, people called us the “fruits of peace”. There are thousands of fancy ways to show how romantic we are. It is wonderful now compared to my mother’s younger years, but, sometimes I’m not so sure if we are happier and feel more content in our relationships. Having more could also mean wanting more, and even though we are more well connected than ever, love can still be misunderstood.
I seldom write about love unless it is for a magazine article, but today after reflecting on my mother’s point of view, I learned love also means sacrifice, loyalty and a lot of other things. Her idea of romance could be totally different from ours, but I couldn’t help smiling when she thought going for a movie, or shopping together is so… romantic. Through her many hardships in the past, she appreciated the little things a lot more than I did.
Maybe we don’t need a thousand ways to show love, but with a little bit more patience, more understanding, more gratitude, we can make each other feel loved.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Mai Trung Thu, L'heure du thé (Tea time)
