From Tung

As the eldest grandchild of Ong Ngoai, I felt the need to write something on behalf of all his grandchildren - something for the rest of my generation to remember him by.

My earliest memories of Ong Ngoai were of Christmas time as a kid. Almost every year, Mom, Dad, Nhien, and I would make the 10 hour drive from Michigan to St. Louis. I would remember the snow, the lights that decorated my grandparent's house, the Christmas tree that Ong Ngoai put up every year. I would wonder what recycled box of cookies I would be getting this year as a gift; if I was lucky, Cau 3 would also get Nhien and me a giant package of toilet paper - double ply and extra cushioning if we had behaved ourselves - ah yes, it was the gift that kept on giving.

I usually relied on my parents to get me the latest Ninja Turtle action figures or Sega Genesis video game. What mom, dad, Nhien,and I got from Ong Ngoai was his time and most importantly, his love. It was a sense of family that was the REAL gift that kept on giving... a barely heated house to warm our hands and feet, and an almost unconditional love to warm our spirits. Maybe I was too young to understand at the time, too innocent, too stupid - most likely an unenviable combination of all three - but looking back on those Christmases, Ong Ngoai had also given me the gift of simplicity. I barely remember what video games I would get over the years or the names of any of my action figures, but I did remember the simple moments I had with Ong Ngoai.

He would pour a big glass of Coca-Cola all the way to the brim and would let me take sips while we watched TV. He took me fishing for the first time; I caught nothing all day but I got to see a first class, master-fisherman at his finest and was proud that he was my grandpa. He would take me to the local buffet; he and I would barely take advantage of "all-you-can-eat," but it was comforting just to know that we could have if we wanted to. He and I together would listen to his Mozart and Chopin CDs that he bought from one of those infomercials on TV, introducing me to classical music, something that would become an important part of me for the rest of my life. He would take me grocery shopping and we would get a few 2-liters of yes, you guessed it, Coca-Cola.

At the time, these moments didn't seem like a big deal - they were just normal, even mundane things that a grandfather and his grandson would do. But right now, I would give anything to have those moments back, to relive, if only for a brief second, any of those feelings again.

He might not be with us anymore, but I bet you he's enjoying his time at the fishing hole in the sky, looking down on me and shaking his head at why I'm up so late on a work night. Many of you know him by Cau 5, Anh, Dad... to me, he'll forever be my Ong Ngoai.

Rest in peace.

Love,
Tung