Tuyen's families and many others were among the hardest hit. Their families had been living quite comfortably on the money that her father earned before the shells from a bomb destroyed his two legs. Under our coconut tree on Saigon beach, I cried for the first time since I was five. All my tears fell on her hair, creating little rivulets before becoming absorbed among the strands. I gave her a Buddha pendant that I had worn since childhood, hoping that Buddha would protect her on a journey without me.
Life goes on, like everyone else is bound to say.
To keep my sanity, I don't look back, and most of all, I try not to let my imagination run loose. Heaven appoints each human to a place. Let's stop decrying Heaven's whims and quirks. Even if she had survived the journey, her sufferings would have killed her. I cannot be so selfish as to wish she were still alive.