Echoes Along the Streets of Saigon

Dear Vic,

The year has slipped through my fingers, fast and unyielding - yet those weeks when your illness returned seemed to stretch endlessly, heavy with fear. Now, nearly two months since you left, the ache has settled into the quiet corners of our days. We are still learning how to carry it.

Last month, on impulse, I booked a trip to Vietnam for the end of the year - a thought that maybe, in a different place, the air would feel lighter, the grief less sharp. But then I remembered our last mediation in March, when you had gently said no to us travelling back this year. Perhaps you already knew time wouldn’t allow it. Perhaps, in your heart, you wanted to keep Kenzo close, to see him one more time before you slipped beyond my reach.

Before the world shut down with COVID-19, Vietnam had been our rhythm - almost every year, returning to its warmth. That first trip back, we wandered from the misty mountains of the North to the sunlit rivers of the South. After that, Saigon became our anchor. We walked its streets with no rush, losing ourselves in markets, back alleys, and cafés where steam curled from bowls and laughter spilled into the night.

Food was always my adventure, and in time, you made it yours too - not because you chased flavours the way I did, but because you let me lead you there. I dragged you to tucked-away eateries, rooftop stalls, and anywhere I was invited as “that food blogger” in the days when Instagram was still our little stage. You came along with patience and quiet amusement, a hand at my back, the way you always supported the things I loved.

I told Kenzo about those trips - how we ate our way through the city, one street at a time. I asked if he’d like to be my new “partner in crime” now that you’re not here to take the seat beside me. He grinned, eyes bright, and said, 

“Yes, Mummy! I love food just as much as you do!”

And in that moment, I saw you in him - not just in his smile, but in the way he’s willing to follow me into the unknown, just like you once did.

We’ll walk those streets again, Vic. And when we do, I’ll carry you with us - in every clink of chopsticks, in every burst of flavour, in every unspoken memory that lingers between the three of us.

— N