Reflections from afar

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It has been a little over a month since we returned from Vietnam. I did not write during the trip. Our days were full, and after returning to the United States, I found that I needed, and still need, time to reflect.

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You are probably wondering what my mom thought of Vietnam. The truth is, I don’t really know. What follows is not her story. It is mine, shaped by my own observations, emotions, and imperfect perceptions.

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The night we landed, June 5, tears came to my eyes as the plane touched down. This time, I wasn’t thinking about the life I might have had if we hadn’t escaped in 1975. I was simply grateful that, after more than half a century, I was returning with my mother. As we stood up from our seats, I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Welcome home, Mommy.”

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Looking back, I realize that we hadn’t really come home.  We had landed in another country, one shaped by the Geneva Accords of 1954, the division of Vietnam at the 17th parallel, decades of war, and, ultimately, reunification. We landed in what was once North Vietnam. My mother was returning to the country of her birth, yet not to the country she had known. For her, I suspect those distinctions have never completely disappeared.

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What we experienced was not a homecoming. It was, in many ways, the experience of visitors.

 

For my siblings and my nephew, the trip was something entirely different. It was a vacation, an opportunity to discover the country of our family’s origins, and a chance to connect with roots they had never known firsthand. Watching Vietnam through their American eyes became its own story, one I hadn’t expected.

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-KT August 1, 2026