It's 1 o'clock in the morning, and my husband and I were still awake. We tried to help our son gather his items, pack them into the luggage and get ready for his early flight in the morning to America. I couldn't believe that time had passed so fast, that my son had grown and reach to the point to be independent. Saying in another way, we want our son succeed in life, achieve all the goals and be at his top. That’s exactly what both my husband and I, as the parents and my son, as the first child wanted.
Of course, everything was settled and I was ready, but it came too fast. During my son’s last summer in Vietnam, I involved in most of his procedure to go to America like communicating with the organization that helped my son or preparing paper for the VISA interview. I was willing to give my son everything to have a good future. Just a day ago, we sat at the table, talked a conversation and were being a strong unit together. Now, the clock signed us that our family was going to be apart, my first child was going to leave his homeland in a few hours. Several questions popped up in my head like how’s he going to live by himself in a new environment? Will he be able to fit in with the new society? Will it hard to study? Will he have friends and will they be nice to him? I couldn't answer those. I wasn't ready yet. Then the tears started rolling down my cheeks, made me realize that I had to be a strong woman. I needed to show my son that he didn't need to worry about me, because I could take care of myself. All his achievements in the U.S would be the answer for the time being. I thought I was being too emotional in front of my son, so I decided to get myself a quite space. I head up to the attic where we keep all the old family valuable items. I wanted to go back in time and try to remember our family memories. Therefore, I reached to the pictures book that lying on a table, which I rarely noticed and opened it. All the...