Fiction

Hey there, it’s Delilah

One of my favourite songs was “Hey There Delilah” by Plain White T’s. Not long ago, I saw people singing “replies” to the song from Delilah’s perspective and I thought that was an amazing idea. So here’s a little spin on that.


Photo by Ylanite Koppens



Hey there, it’s Delilah.

I’m doing fine here. New York City is ok, just crowded and busy. I would prefer you here with me though, that will make New York City much better. But you are a thousand miles away. I dressed up so cute yesterday, going to Times Square. It’s near Christmas. Times Square was sparkling with all these pretty lights. The whole place looked so pretty during this time of the year. I wished you could be here to see it with me. How is Minnesota? Probably still freezing during the winter right? That, I don’t miss. Though, I stood around on the streets for quite a while yesterday, so I was freezing still. Probably should have worn a longer skirt.



Are you writing anything new this week? I love the last song you wrote for me. I still played it almost every night. You are right. Every time I listen to the song with my eyes closed, I felt like you were here with me, singing it to me with your guitar like you used to do back in Minnesota. That kept me warm, but missing you even more.

Baby, I know times are hard for you, with the Anchor bar dropping your band. But it will get better. One door closes means another one will open. Don’t give up. I believe in you. Things will get better. All the songs you wrote for me were always heartfelt and amazing. You have such talent. You’ll be making history with your music. Don’t ever give up.

My friends here think I am crazy, being in love with a guy in Minnesota while I’m in New York City. They say there are so many guys here and I can have anyone I want. But they don’t know what we have. They don’t know how hard it is to find someone that is worth holding on to. And you are that to me. In two more years, I’ll be done with school and we will be together. Being it is New York or Minnesota, we’ll be together. I’ll fly to you, take a train, or hell I’ll even walk if I have to. But in two years, we’ll be together, and for real this time. Wait for me.

So focus on what you need to do, write more songs, play even better music and don’t worry about me. I’ll be good. Just remember to write to me often. I’m lonely without you and your words keep me going.

Love you,

Your girl

Life

I Will Follow You Into The Dark

Picture credit: dothocungviet.com


Love of mine, someday you will die
But I’ll be close behind and I’ll follow you into the dark
No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark

I Will Follow You Into The Dark – Death Cab For Cutie


I had never lost anyone in my twenty something years of my life. I had all four grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, everyone. I grew up with everyone loving me and me loving everyone. I spent days as a child hanging out at everyone’s houses. I would have never wanted to lose any of my family, but deep down I knew that day would eventually come. And when the first drop of water fell, a whole waterfall would start splashing down on me, so quickly I could barely breathe. I was terrified.

Last year, my paternal grandpa passed away.

If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied
And illuminate the no’s on their vacancy signs
If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark


Ông nội was my everything when I was little. My parents couldn’t really afford much when they had me. My family stayed with my grandparents until I was 7. My childhood was filled with ông nội. He picked me up from school, took me on walks and dropped me off at dance classes. He made sure the neighboring kids I hung out with were good kids. He used his little retirement money to buy me toys. He watched TV with me when my parents got home late from work.

Once in a while, his friends came by to visit. Then ông nội reminisced about his old days as a soldier. He attended the wars. He fought in battles. He hid in bushes. He commanded troops. And he killed people.

Mum said ông nội was a big shot government employee back in the days. He traveled far and met many people. He had mistresses in places that my grandma didn’t know. Grandma was 20 years younger than ông nội because he used to be a lady man, handsome, well-traveled and successful. He worked hard and he enjoyed life.

He had 5 children. During the war time and the peace time, he did all he could to make sure they all got to go to schools. Climbing over hills or hiding in the bunkers, studying was a must. He used his money and connections to get them to colleges during a time that the rest of the country was barely literate.

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me,
Son, fear is the heart of love, so I never went back


My grandparents were not Christians. They practiced a combination of Vietnamese traditional ancestor worship and some Buddhism beliefs. In his house, on top of the big wooden closet was always an altar with pictures of our ancestors. Ông nội said the altar should be as high as possible so the ancestors could watch over us. The smell of incenses being lighted up every week lingered around the house.

Ông nội probably believed in reincarnation or just becoming nothing after death. A thought that his family still remembered him might be enough. Every time we placed fruits and offerings on the altar, ông nội told me to pray for our family happiness from our ancestors. Family would always take care of family.

You and me we’ve seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary and the soles of your shoes
Are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
But it’s nothing to cry about
‘Cause we’ll hold each other soon in the blackest of rooms



I had ông nội for more than 20 years. I had him as a child. I had him as a teenager. I even came home from across the globe just in time to see him one last time before the incarceration. When it was time for him to go, there was nothing I could do.

I lighted an incense for the altar, now with his picture in the center. I still cried every time.


Picture credit: dothocungviet.com