KEEP IT IN THE PHAMLY

Friday night. My brother's name lit up my phone and I hoped it was another trip to hospital but I knew it wasn't because hospital trips are a PhamLe group message. And phone calls are for the words, "Dad's passed."

I held it together long enough to learn the details. Then my voice broke (of course, life being life, I'd just put in my teeth whitening kit so had a lisp during this serious conversation) when I thanked Big Brother Pham for taking good care of Dad these past several years, and in particular the last few years where he was in and out of hospital often.

Dad Pham sold the Phamly home to my brother who built a granny flat at the back of the block. This meant Dad got to spend his final years living with family, seeing his granddaughters grow up, and had dinner with his eldest son most nights.

Thanks to Big Brother Pham, Dad got to live and pass on his own terms. He was at home and chain-smoking to the very end, which is what he'd wanted.

Someone at work asked me if my parents were strict growing up as Asian parents are known to be. It got me thinking. They were both the youngest of 10 children so by the time they were going through childhood their parents would have been less strict. Mum wasn't strict in most ways, but she was dead set on getting school educated.

Mum Pham was the book smart parent. She was studious and disciplined, and a qualified pharmacist (though the communists wouldn't give her a degree because she refused to serve in their army). Growing up all the pressure to study and go to university came from Mum. Dad Pham? Not so much for formal education. He once got in trouble with my Aunty when he suggested our cousin (her son) may be better off doing a trade. She was so outraged by the notion, she didn't talk to Dad for half a year.

I never really thought about why Dad Pham was so much more relaxed about education than Mum and most other Asian parents. That is, until one day, in one of his reflective moods he told me about how he failed forward into the navy.

At school, he ranked 130-something out of 134 for language. He gave so few shits, he didn't bother to remember exactly how low he scored. Now, Dad is not a dumbass by any means. He is actually more intelligent, calculating and strategic than Mum Pham in most ways. But he was too smart for formal education - because it was too easy for him, he got bored. Big Brother Pham would one day follow in Dad's footsteps - he was too smart for boring bookish study.

Dad joined the navy because he didn't have many other options. In the navy, with all the hands-on practical training and studies, Dad actually ranked 24, which was pretty high up there. His own life experience is why he's open to children doing trades or anything hands-on. Books aren't for everyone. Though, books turned out to be for me; they were definitely not for Big Brother Pham. Little Sissy Pham was somewhere in between - I think she'd have excelled at a sport if we could afford sport, but instead being poor forced her down the study route.

Even though I am a book nerd, I believe you should learn life your own way. Whatever suits your interests and skills is what you should pursue. Otherwise, you either won't be happy or won't excel in what you do... or both. 

Pham is the fourth most common surname in the Vietnamese community (Nguyen is top at nearly 40%, then Tran & Le) so it wasn't a huge coincidence that our neighbours across the hall in the council flats were Phams. The Other Phams as they are known in our world were a Phamly with three boys and a girl, the youngest. We went to the same primary school and their Middle Brother was in the same year as Big Brother Pham. The younger two kids were closer in age to Little Sissy Pham and me. I don't have any photos with them - I guess none of us had cameras back then.

Big Brother Pham and Middle Brother Other Pham were the best of friends before we moved to Brisbane. I remembered they came over and played computer games a lot at our house, and we'd all play downstairs together. Big Brother Pham and Other Brothers Pham played basketball and cricket while the younger siblings played less coordinated games.

The Other Phams adored Mum Pham and Dad Pham. Middle Brother Other Pham told me that in a way my parents were more like parents to them than their own. Sadly for The Other Phams, their parents worked crazy hours and were always away. Unlike my parents who were on a pension and always home, so super attentive of us spoiled Pham siblings.

Often we'd come home from school or grocery shopping on weekends, and one or more of the kids would be sitting on the steps outside the landing to our respective flats because their parents weren't home, and they were locked out. Mum Pham would invite them to ours, and feed them snacks and if their parents weren't home in time dinner too. I still remember Little Brother Other Pham stuffing his face on chicken wings, home made hot chips, and tomato sauce like there was no tomorrow. Funny how random memories stick.

Life in Melbourne wouldn't have been the same without The Other Phams next door. In my hazy childhood memories, it didn't seem odd that they were always around because as kids you just accept that the world is the way it is. It wasn't until we reconnected years later that I learned how special this time in the flats was for them. I hope Mum Pham knew how much of a positive impact she had on The Other Pham siblings. She did a lot of good things for people without asking for thanks, and I still learn new ways to appreciate her to this day several years after she's passed. Thanks Mum for taking care of all Phams.


If you want to start from the beginning of Phamly history, read:
Part 1 - O Captain! My Captain! Dad Pham's navy days during the Vietnam War.
Part 2 - P.O.W. Viet Cong Re-education Camp Dad Pham's time as a prisoner of war.
Part 3 - Living with Viet Cong Mum Pham's experience with communism.
Part 4 - Boat People Dad Pham seeks refuge after the war.
Part 5 - Finding Faith Dad finds peace.
Part 6 - When Herr met Frau - Dad Pham meets Mum Pham.
Part 7 - Life in Germany: the early years - Dad Pham sets up life in Germany.
Part 8 - Life in Germany: the later years - Dad gets sick, Mum steps up.
Part 9 - Getting ready for Australia - Mum Pham is on a mission.
Part 10 - Coming to Australia - My first memories of Australia.
Part 11 - Live in Brisbane the first time - The story of why we left Brisbane.
Part 12 - Moving to Melbourne - First impressions.
Part 13 - Life in Melbourne - Dad Pham - The good old days.
Part 14 - The Other Phams - Our neighbours in Melbourne were Phams too.
Part 15 - Life in Melbourne - Mum Pham - Our Sunday Phamly traditions began in Melbourne.
Part 16 - Cats On A Train - Moving to Brisbane
Part 17 - Sleepwalking Scare - Moving to Brisbane continued
Part 18 - A House in Brisbane - Moving to Brisbane continued some more

Dad Pham dreamt of us kids before we were born. Each dream came to reflect our personalities and lives. It could be coincidence, or it could be something else. Interpret the dreams as you wish.

Big Brother Pham
Before Big Brother Pham was born, Dad had a dream that he was standing in the open under a dark and stormy sky. God told him he was expecting a son, and the son would be his close friend, yet being trials and hardship to his life.

True to his dream, Big Brother is Dad's friend and also the child with the most difficult life. It impacted Dad and The Phamly a lot in our early years. Though, now the storm has finally passed and Big Brother and Dad Pham are living together and having the best time.

Big Sissy Pham (Me)
I, of course, was the most difficult of his dreams. Dad dreamt it was night time and he was crawling on his belly, deep in mud under barbed wire - he was cut from getting caught on the wires and bleeding. Ahead he could see a building with its lights on, which he instinctively knew he had to reach. As he pulled himself further and further, the wire got lower and lower until it was ripping him open. He started vomitting blood.

When he finally reached the building, he crawled up the steps to the building where, exhausted and bleeding, he found a room full of Vietnamese boys and a single Western woman wearing leopard print - he knew instantly she was strong, difficult and the boss. He had to choose between the boys and the girl. He picked me.

I bet he regretted his decision in my early teens to early twenties when I butted heads with my parents over their Vietnamese cultural beliefs and my Westernised ways. These days, I use my knowledge of Western culture to make sure Dad gets the best of both worlds - his Vietnamese roots and the benefits of living in Australia, instead of clashing with him. Cultures can co-exist, it's not one or the other - I saw the world as too black & white when I was younger.


Little Sissy Pham
When Little Sissy Pham was conceived, Dad dreamt he was by the sea when a German man in a formal suit told him he'd have a boy. The man then transformed into a half shark / half frog creature and hopped away across the water.

Now Little Sissy is a boy so the dream was somewhat wrong, except for the part where she identified as a boy until her mid-teen years. Whenever we role played games as kids, I would be the princess and she would be the distress. I also had to refer to her as Brother in Vietnamese. Though these days she's girlier than I am.

Little Brother Pham
Dad never had any dreams of our little brother. Before Mum came to term, she slipped on ice and fell hard - we lost our little brother who was stillborn.

Photos: Cousin T & Big Brother Pham (with Little Sissy Pham on the side) in 1987 versus Little Sissy Pham & me in 2017

In Vietnamese culture we refer to family members in birth order. So, for example, Big Brother Pham is number 2, I am number 3, and Little Sissy Pham is number 4. It's relative to the speaker so to my siblings I'm sister 3, my nieces Aunty 3, or to elders child 3. And then everyone has their name too so I can be Aunty Ngoc or Jade. And in Mum's Phamly they have their Vietnamese name AND their Chinese name. So depending on which side of the Phamly I speak to I refer to them by their Chinese name (Mum's side) or by their number (Dad's side)... it gets rather confusing so for blog purposes so I will use numbers relative to me.

Mum Pham was the youngest of 10 kids. Aunty 9, being the 8th in line, helped raise and care for Mum since Grandma passed away when Mum was a toddler. Mum loved Aunty 9 and though I hadn't seen her in decades so do I. Her care and love helped shape the care and love Mum gave me. I was ecstatic when Cousin T told us his mum could see us.

So on our first full day in Hometown, we went to visit Aunty 9 in the old flat where The Phamly used to visit every weekend. It was strange to walk the streets and halls that Mum & Dad Pham used to walk every weekend, and then to see the same flat that is in so many Phamly photos. I made Little Sissy Pham recreate a photo from childhood - except instead of Big Brother Pham and Cousin T, we were in the pic. It was the funnest!

It always makes me happy-sad to visit family and friends who knew Mum. I can see the love and loss I remind them of when they see Mum's face in mine. I'm almost the age Mum Pham was when she fled to Germany too. Aunty 9 says I even have the same gentle way of speaking. Ooph, it's like good, firm kick in the feels every time.

In long-held Phamly tradition, Aunty 9 overfed us to the point of bursting...and then took us to an all-you-can-eat buffet with Aunty 6's kids. Aunty 9 was so happy to see us, she spent hours strolling the streets of Hometown with us even though she's only recently out of hospital and not up to her regular strength. One thing we noticed in Europe - everyone is way fitter than Aussies of any age. People are just healthier and more active - obesity wasn't really a thing. Or if it was, we never saw anyone morbidly overweight in our travels.

Aunty 9 and her husband still went for bike rides up until her surgery and his (he was in hospital when we were visiting so didn't get to see him). I remember I used to annoy the crap out of him because he didn't like noisy kids, and I was chubby chaos. Cousin N told me how one time he told me to be quiet, and I had a full tantrum, stormed off into the bedroom, and refused to talk to anyone or do anything I was so mad for hours. What a little shit I was.

Being back in the flat where all these memories were made was surreal. I couldn't tell which bits I remembered from actual memory or from old Phamly album photos or tales. Either way, it was indescribably wonderful to be back at the flat where we hung out every week as kids. So much love and fondness was felt the whole day there.

Back in Germany in the '80s, every Saturday or Sunday The Phamly would walk a half hour to Aunty 9’s house. Well, it's a 20 minute walk as an adult for us when we went back to Germany for the first time in 29 years, but Dad & Mum Pham had to haul 3 young kids with them. Aside from the cousin who lived with us, we were probably closest to Aunty 9's kids.

We reunited with our cousins in Frankfurt on our Europe 2017 trip. Genetics is a funny thing - I recognised my cousin rounding a corner at the train station immediately because he looks EXACTLY like his mum. And he spotted me immediately because I look EXACTLY like Mum Pham (his Mum's sister).

It's been 29 years since we've seen each other. I was a pudgy 4 year old and Little Sissy Pham a scrawny 3 year old when we left Germany. In my memories, our cousins were so big and tall, and now I dwarf them. In fact, we dwarfed all of our German Phamly. Mum Pham used to say we grew enormous because we had cows' milk and potatoes as kids since we were born in Germany, then raised in Australia. Our cousins were born in Vietnam, and immigrated or migrated over.

Our Frankfurt-based cousins, Chi N (10 years older though looks 10 years younger than us now) and Anh T (3 years older), are in heaps of Phamly photos because we used to do all the fun things together. Parades and games and birthday and playground photos.

If we had stayed in Germany, I know I'd be really close to Chi N who's a graphic designer, artist, singer, and super-funny and sassy to boot. My kind of human and humour. Big Brother Pham and Anh T would have been the best of friends too. Anh T was his mum's shadow as a kid but when we went to their house, he and Big Brother Pham would go off playing adventure games together. He studied IT and is a software developer for Germany's Federal Intelligence Service. Big Brother Pham studied IT too but didn't finish his course due to some unfortunate turns of events in his life. Makes me wonder how differently all our lives would have turned out if we'd stayed in Germany. But we didn't, so no use dreaming of our fluent German, not knowing English and maybe having a smoother ride in life than we had - though with less fresh Vietnamese food because tropical-friendly food is not so common in freezing cold Germany. Life would definitely have been different for The Phamly.

Chi N shared stories of when we were little because she was old enough to remember. This one, made me laugh because it’s so typically me and Mum, and it involves something as mundane as a toilet door:

One day at Aunty 6's house when I was 3 years old, I locked myself in the toilet and didn't know how to unlock the door because: imbecile child. After a while people noticed I was missing. Soon they discovered the toilet door was locked and couldn’t think of who else would be in there so they called through the door to ask if I was OK. I was either too petrified or too dumb to reply so didn’t make a sound. As soon as Mum Pham realised I was locked inside and not responding she did what Mum Pham does best - she went into full-blown panic mode, and freaked everyone out pacing back and forth, screeching that the worst has happened because I could have had a seizure in there (I’d had one a year before), or tripped and hit my head, or fallen in the toilet and drowned. So one of our older cousins, who shares a name with Big Brother Pham so the Phamly refer to him as Big Big Brother, and my brother as Small Big Brother (cute!) - anyhoo, Big Big Brother Cousin busted the door open and they found me just sitting in there completely fine. To this day the toilet door doesn't shut properly because of young me. What a pest.


If you haven't already, read Part 1 of German Cousin's interview so you know my cousin's background and how he came to be so close to my parents and was able to send me Phamly photos I've never seen before. Above is baby me with Big Brother Pham and German Cousin. Below is Little Sissy Pham with German Cousin's brother.

Where did you live with my parents? 
When I joined Dad Pham, it was the time your parents prepared for their wedding. We were all living in cậu Mười’s (Uncle 10's) Flat in Giessen. The wedding took place in the City Hall of Giessen. After then, we moved to a new 2-bed-room flat in Giessen West (Check Google Maps for “Krofdorferstr. 176, 35398 Gießen”). Your dad gave up the translator job and started occupational retraining as service engineer for electronics. Your mom started her internship as a pharmacist. Things went well until Dad Pham had his very first schizophrenic episode. He began to drink and got frightened of Viet Cong spies, who followed him.

What do you remember about my mother? What was she like as a person when you knew her?
Your mother got pregnant during this time. It was quite hard time for her, I guess. Busy with the new job, being pregnant, taking care of her sick husband (and his lazy nephew). But I never heard one single complaint from her. She was a person who prefers to give more and take less. She was not needy nor demanding at all.

Were you living with them when Mum was pregnant with my brother? If so, was she a happy pregnant lady? She always made out like pregnancy and childbirth were so easy but I think she didn't want to scare me or my sister. 
I was living with your parents when your mom was pregnant with Big Brother Pham. And I kept living with them when she was pregnant with you and your sister. Actually, I stayed with you all the time until you left Germany for Australia. Even when my parents came to Germany, I decided to stay with Dad Pham and mom. My parents' flat was too small for the whole family. The other reason was Dad Pham. Living with him is very easy. And I was not willing to give up the big freedom (and I’m sure you know it quite well).

After Big Brother Pham was born, we moved to another flat, located in the city center of Giessen (Check Google Maps for “Marktlaubenstr. 5, 35390 Gießen”). The new flat with 3 bed-rooms is old but the location was more convenient and the rent was cheaper. You and Little Sissy Pham were born. The flat had one more room which was unused. So, your dad and mom rented it to anh Thịnh, a young Vietnamese goldsmith working for a jeweller in Marburg (a town near Gießen). Coming back to your questions about your mom and her pregnancy: The births of you all were easy. I think at Big Brother Pham's birth, Dad Pham was still in his first episode. So, your mom went alone to the hospital and gave birth to him on her own. I think your mom is a happy lady, optimistic in all life situations. At least she always showed herself as such.

What do you remember of my father? His worst schizophrenic episodes happened in Germany - were you still living with them when it began? 
For me, the worst schizophrenic episode was the very first one. Maybe, because it came suddenly and we weren’t prepared for it. In this episode, he drank a lot whiskey mixed with Coke (people say that this is a dangerous mix) and was not approachable. Mom couldn’t convince him to go to hospital. At the end, she had to call the police who took him (he was shouting and fighting) with them. The following episodes were not as scary as the first one. Later, Dad Pham came to understand that he needed medical care in such situation. How is the situation now after mom’s death? Does dad still recognize the paranoid periods when they are coming? If not, are you able convince him to go to the hospital?

Dad doesn't have bad episodes anymore! The last time was when I was in university back in 2014 - he woke me up in the middle of the night to drive him to the emergency ward of a hospital because he'd been poisoned by the Viet Cong. He lives with the constant delusion that anything bad is caused by the Viet Cong - he's convinced the aches and pains of a normal, aging body are because of the VC. It's hard to convince him to get medical treatment sometimes for his diabetes and such because he doesn't trust general doctors - he thinks they're working with the communists. But his schizophrenia is very manageable now. 

I moved back from Melbourne to Brisbane to live with him after Mum passed and settle him into a new routine, but he had no issues at all. If anything, Little Sissy Pham and I needed more comforting than Dad did.

I adore my nieces to the point of obsession and sometimes I worry I'm like one of those doting parents who thinks their child poops rainbows and vomits unicorns, but even worse because I'm only an Aunty. I feel vindicated for thinking my nieces are exceptional little human beings because last month Middling Niece was given a spirit of the school award (one student gets this per year level) that said:

Agent Smith from The Matrix was right. Humans are like a disease to this planet but I'll be damned if he thinks we're not cute when we multiply and spread. Meet the newest germ in my Phamly:


I call her Mini-bro Pham because the poor thing looked awfully like Big Brother Pham when she was first born. Actually, she looked exactly like the baby from Ice Age 1 first, and then when she opened her eyes she looked like my bro.


Then we took her home from hospital and she realised, 'Holy crap... this is what I have to live with?' Though, to be fair, I didn't buy her that onesie - I rightly assume she bought it herself with the baby bonus. Babies get to spend that, right?


When she's old enough to crawl, I'm going to put her in the middle of the hallway and make her pick the Auntie (singular) she really loves. If it's me, I'll cry until my blood vessels burst and spurt blood out of my eyes. If it's Little Sissy Pham, I'll knock my sister out with a baby rattle. Either way, mini-bro is going to have a traumatising life experience 6-9 months from now.

Life with The Phamly won't be all bad. We don't suppress her desire for Tin Tin hair (actually, it's her natural do - nature really is amazing). We took her bowling for her 1 month celebration of life where she drank and sharted.

Every family has at least one oddball. In our Phamly, we had four. Big Brother Pham has minimal quirks and eccentricities making him the closest to normal and, therefore, our black sheep. Literally. He works in construction so his skin is a lot darker than his sickly office worker sisters. In fact, one time he came to pick me up from the airport and I walked passed him thinking he was Maori. He let me walk pass because I looked like an English ranga and not his Vietnamese sister at the time.

Big Brother Pham is always pointing out our oddball gene. Like the time Little Sissy Pham and I were singing Jingle Bells at the top of our lungs in bed at night. Big Brother Pham came storming in because our squeaky voices were keeping him up, to yell, "Why are you singing Christmas carols? IT'S NOT EVEN CHRISTMAS!!!" It didn't shut us up but we sang a little quieter after that because he had a good point.

Big Brother is also the only Pham sibling who can do anything practical. He can fix fences, build computers, install toilets, make babies, replace door hinges, tie ropes, raise babies, move a house. Me: I injured my wrist putting together an IKEA bed and continue to bruise my legs every week by walking into the bedframe. I do slightly better than Little Sissy Pham who was once bedridden with 20+ stitches in her knees because she tripped on her own pants and landed badly on her knee. Then while she stayed home waiting for that knee to heal, she walked into her own IKEA bedframe and smashed her good knee, requiring another dozen stitches.

Things like this just don't happen to Big Brother Pham. He's survived flipped cars, knife attacks and my road map directions - things that would kill any lesser Pham dead.