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KEEP IT IN THE PHAMLY


On Sunday, we attended temple for Day 49 since Dad's passing. I can't believe he's been gone that long already. Here is my tribute to Dad's life. 

Touched is too soft a word. No, Dad Pham influenced so many people's lives during his 79 years.

We have family in Germany and Australia who wouldn't have the lives they've built if Dad hadn't helped them evacuate when the Viet Cong invaded, or driven a refugee boat out of Vietnam, then spent nearly all his income to help family members.

It's no wonder, even though we had planned a small funeral service and told only relatives and a few close family friends, double the people we anticipated attended Dad's funeral service. The funeral home had to put out seating in their back room. My Uncle said he'd told people it was a private family affair, otherwise there would have been even more mourners.

I wrote a series on Dad Pham's life from Vietnam to Germany to Australia. But I never wrote about him as a person.

Dad was super intelligent and able to process vast amounts of new knowledge quickly, it's how he adapted to multiple new countries so well. He had a wicked sense of humour and impossibly quick wit. He was a wise old soul and spoke very eloquently; people listened when he had something to say. Though, he'd always say many people listen but few understand. 

Above all else, he loved my Mum. He loved her so intensely sometimes I think he loved his children because we're a piece of her.

When I observe my siblings, I see Mum Pham is our kindness, Dad Pham is our sharpness, and both parents gifted us with generosity. Mum gave by serving (nurturing, feeding, listening to others), Dad gave by sharing (knowledge, advice, opening our home). There's a selflessness about my Phamly that I'm proud of and want to pass on to the next generation. The world could do with more Mum Phams and Dad Phams, especially now they're both gone.

Rest in peace beside Mum Pham, Dad. We love you. 

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Dad Pham wanted to keep his send off small and simple. His only requests were his three Phamlings attend his burial in the grave beside Mum Pham. He wanted a low stress affair after the tumultuous and traumatic experience of losing Mum Pham and arranging her interstate funeral.

The thing is, Dad is dead and gone, but we have to live with our relatives and friends. No way could we do as he asked and not allow his siblings and nieces and nephews, and his Vietnamese community to grieve and pay their respects.

Big Brother Pham jail-breaked Dad out of hospital for a day last year so he could attend a big family event when a cousin from Germany came to visit Brisbane. In a way, it was good for our relatives to see Dad's ailing health. It meant when it was time to share the news of his passing, nobody was shocked like they had been when Mum died.

Of course, because Dad wanted to keep it simple, we instead had a funeral service in Brisbane for his siblings and then a burial service in Melbourne for his friends and Mum's side of the family. All during Tropical Cyclone Alfred. His funeral service was nearly postponed and then our flights to Melbourne would have been cancelled had we flown a day earlier. The name plate on his casket needed fixing, the flights we booked didn't go through but luckily we ended up on alternative flights even if they were at godawful hours, our mourning cloths were left behind by the funeral home's transport team and Little Sissy Pham had to brave flooding roads to meet the funeral director to collect them for the burial ceremony. The Brisbane temple road flooded and had a tree fall across it to boot, so we couldn't attend to make an offering after the funeral. Oh, and of course, the taxi we booked to the airport kept getting cancelled by drivers so Big Brother Pham and Sister-Not-In-Law drove ourselves there. I wrote most of this on the plane to Melbourne so, good news, we made it. ...and, yep, Melbourne is having a heatwave.

Part of me likes to think that Dad watched on as we overcame unexpected challenges, shaking his head in disbelief at how we persevered despite the odds to put on a big funeral and burial, when he'd timed his passing with a force of nature that we could have easily used as an excuse to keep things small and simple. It's not our fault, Dad, that you and Mum raised resilient, hard working, emotionally stable, physically able adults. Your Phamlings keep trying until we get it done!

Randomly my uncle's (dad's youngest brother) shoe broke in Melbourne the night before the burial. Luckily shops are open late in Melbourne so we got him some superglue. It's been a bizarre week. I'll write about the Melbourne burial another time.



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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.

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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. 

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Someone asked recently if Dad Pham was still by himself after it came out in conversation that Mum was no longer with us. Dad has remained single since her passing in 2011 and has no interest in finding another love or companion. He says Mum was a devoted wife. She took us to see Dad every evening on the bus when he was hospitalised numerous times throughout our childhood. She never complained when he sent all their money back to his family in Vietnam.

Mum Pham had a quiet strength that wasn't obvious if you didn't truly know her. She was always so loving and generous, she'd come across as a bit of a pushover to strangers she went out of her way to accommodate. But it takes strength to be that open and vulnerable and give to others, especially when times are tough or relationships soured - she never turned away anyone in need. If anything, she held them closer.

Mum Pham bestowed all three Phamlings with her quiet strength. I'm proud when people tell me I'm a quiet achiever. It's often given as critical feedback to be more assertive and vocal, because extroverts rule the world (and look where that's led us). I'll always prefer to be a good listener like Mum than a fancy wordsmith any day. 

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Dad Pham had been in love withs someone else before he met Mum Pham.

On one of his reflective days, he told me a bit about her. They met at the US Culture Wellness Centre in Vietnam. He said she has a round face like Mum Pham, like me. That made me laugh. Boyfriend Pham has taken to calling me moon-face because in a moment of self-doubt, I wondered if he and I looked similar in anyway. I don't want to be one of those couples who look like siblings. He reminded me I am Vietnamese, and he is Australian. Also, the only thing we have in common is I have a big round face, and he has a small round face. We only have moon-faces in common. Phew.

Dad told me after the American war in Vietnam he had to flee and he asked his first love to come with him. But they weren't married so it was improper and she chose to stay with her family rather than flee. He loved her and would have married her if he'd stayed.

The two of them got in touch a number of years after Mum Pham passed. They started off with snail mail, then I was given an email address and started scanning Dad's handwritten letters and sending them. There was back and forth for a time while they caught up on each other's lives since the war. Eventually Dad does what his schizophrenia always does, and he moved onto the next phase and stopped writing. He didn't see the point since he would never go back to Vietnam, and she would never come to Australia.

Mum Pham used to speak of another woman Dad met while he was a refugee in Singapore. They parted ways because she left for America and Dad didn't want to go there. Instead, he went to Germany where he became an interpreter and met Mum Pham.


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I half jokingly wrote about planning for chaos at the start of the year, and to teach me a lesson Chaos smacked me right between the eyes, and suddenly it's April and I haven't written a single blog in 3 months.

Normally, in retail life Jan/Feb quiet down after peak Xmas and holiday trade. Me? I jumped right into another round the clock workload and just as things started to let up in March, Dad Pham spent a week in hospital with fluid logged lungs (he's OK now). And of course, I was interviewing for a role I really wanted the day after Dad got out of Emergency. Somehow my sleep deprived brain managed to not say anything that got me axed by the panel and - oh, hello! I start a new role in a whole new industry later this month!

It's always tempting to stay in your comfort zone and do what you know you're good at and enjoy. But, lately, I've started to wonder what untapped potential I may have. What more can I contribute? Life has a funny way of nudging you in the right direction when you're ready to listen. A recruiter hit me up out of the blue about a role in healthcare, and it turns out I can contribute to people's healthcare experience through technology projects. I feel very lucky to have this opportunity to try something new and contribute to my community in a different way.

I've been at the same retail company in various project roles for 6 years, 6 months and 26 days. It had been so long between jobs, I looked up how to resign in case HR guidelines had changed. I've had the greatest time with some of the best people I've ever met (including the Work Pham and Boyfriend Pham!), but a chapter must end in order to start a new one. I'm looking forward to the next chapter of my life.

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Dad Pham is forever saying how lucky we are to be living in Australia. He's damn right, we are. Little Sissy Pham and I visit dad once every week, and when I was a single lady with no boyfriend or cat and living 20 minutes away, it was easy peasy to spend all day with Dad and help out. I used to take him grocery shopping in the morning then spend the afternoon cooking a Phamly feast, then chill out until late. 

These days, I always take him grocery shopping in the morning and do his dishes, but lunch is potato chips from Big Brother Pham's pantry or 2-minute noodles from Dad's, then Dad kicks us out between 1.30pm to have a nap. Or if he doesn't kick us out, I head home around 2.30pm to do my own chores, and cook lunch for the week, prep our dinners, and do some work emails and set up my work week. Sundays are not fun days. Basically, Dad Pham needed more support than the half day once every week we are able to give him. 

The people in Dad's community recommended the Australian Government's My Aged Care support. One of their services is in-home care, which is ideal for Dad because he's nowhere near needing full-time care, but he's not doing so great on his own. He doesn't have energy to tidy up around the house and it's always a little messy. He doesn't have much appetite, doesn't cook regularly, tends to snack on junk food than have meals. General household and life chores are slipping.

My Aged Care has been a complete blessing. The government provides different tiers of funding depending on the level of care you need, which can be spent with any approved in-home care provider so we were able to select Sunnycare, a company that has Vietnamese-speaking workers. Ideal! Dad's English is also failing; he's starting to lose words in Vietnamese let alone English, his third language.

Dad's less lonely during the week as he has in-home care every couple of days, the house is generally tidier because they help clean the bathroom and kitchen, and organise his belongings - all the little things Dad has stopped doing regularly because he gets tired so quickly now. They also take Dad to the local shops when it's a cooking day to buy ingredients, which means Dad doesn't need to wait for me to come on Sundays to buy heavy grocery items he can't carry home on the bus.

Visit https://www.myagedcare.gov.au to see if they have anything suitable for you. While they do have some translators, if you can take time off work to attend the assessment with your loved one it means you'll get assessed sooner because they don't have to wait for a translator to be available. Worth the half day off I took to interpret for Dad Pham. 

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Mum Pham was always a little fragile even in my early memories with her. Once upon a time, according to old photos she was young and - well, ‘fit’ might be an exaggeration. I suppose she was more ‘physically able’ because she was slimmer, but she preferred to walk and sit rather than run and jump. She kept her figure when Big Brother Pham was born but when I happened, she ballooned and couldn’t drop her pregnancy weight. Yup, I ruined Mum’s body with my pho cravings from inside her belly.

Dad Pham was always invincible from as early as I can remember. Dad has always been super fit because he was active as a kid - his favourite past time was swimming and playing at the beach, even when it meant a good beating when he got home because he’d skipped all his meals and curfew to stay in the water. Dad had a black belt in taekwondo, and could never sit still for long when we were growing up - he’d pace up and down the hallway while Mum and kids watched TV on the couch. And did I mention he was in the navy for most of his young to adult life?

On one of my Sunday visits with Dad this year, I noticed he was struggling to open a glass Moccona coffee jar. His fitness is finally fading in his mid-70s, though I think if Mum Pham was still around he’d be fighting fit because he needed to take care of her. Since the heartbreak of losing her, he’s aged dramatically. It’s like love kept him young in a very real way.

It’s jarring to see Dad Pham is now old and frail; it feels like it happened overnight. Luckily Little Sissy Pham and I are better equipped to aid him having learned from our experience with Mum’s ailing health. I replaced his glass coffee jar with one that has a plastic lid so it’s easy to open and close. It’s the little changes in what he’s capable of that remind me he’s not invincible anymore.
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I take Dad Pham to the local lake every week so he can sit and watch me walk around the lake. Once upon a time, he would have been able to join me but these days he’s not that mobile so he sits on his favourite bench with a hot coffee in his Contigo Travel mug, and waves to me when I’m close enough to see his arms in the air.

I wear a Nike cap for sun protection on these walks. One day Dad looked at me pensively and said, “Nike is an expensive brand. You’re fortunate.” For a man who wore $1-$5 apparel, footwear and accessories most of his life, a $21.95 Nike cap on sale is a luxury.

Dad revealed he felt responsible for the charity bin clothes and hand-me-downs we wore growing up, because parents always want the best for their children and it was his duty to get that for us. I told him it doesn’t matter - it taught us to appreciate the nice things we have now, and we wouldn’t have gotten to where we were without him.

As a kid I didn’t know any different; we went to a public primary school where there were lots of kids in the same boat. Then as a teen, I knew I wasn’t trendy but I also didn’t care so it never impacted me to wear my brother’s old jeans and baggy tees. Though, now I think upon it, my older cousins seemed to like gifting us clothes. Maybe it bothered them.

Dad’s happy that we have nice things these days. Like always, we wish Mum Pham was here to enjoy the good lives she and Dad helped us build.
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Before Mum Pham managed an epic house move on her own, and before Little Sissy Pham was sleepwalking off trains; Dad Pham was flying solo in Brisbane. He came up to house hunt. The Phamly was moving away from Melbourne to get a fresh start and Dad was looking for a new home to rent.

He wasn't have much luck though. A family of 5 - two adults on the pension and three high school and uni aged students. We had no income except for government support. Being Vietnamese probably didn't help - Brisbane folk were openly racist back then.

Out of options, Dad went a different tactic. He went to the real estate, inspected a couple of houses in the morning, went home and called Mum Pham and asked her to call in all favours to pull together a house deposit. Because we have amazing family and friends, she managed to get the $10k (yeah, I know, that kills me) they needed in addition to their measly savings, and my cousin was willing to be their guarantor. That same afternoon, Dad went back to the real estate and bought what has now been our Phamly home for nearing two decades.

Yes, you read right. Dad Pham bought a house because he couldn't rent one on his pension. As he says, only in Australia. What a lucky country to live in.



- THE END -

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
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I visit Mum's grave in Melbourne whenever I am in town and have car to drive out west to lay flowers and pray to her. Mum was never big on flowers, but leaving food there to rot is against the rules and also just wrong. The memorial garden is peaceful and well-maintained. Flowers that begin to die are removed by the groundskeepers so the cemetery is kept nice and fresh for grieving visitors.

I make the trip and lay the flowers to show my respects, but I don't feel connected to Mum in the graveyard. I feel connected to her when I find myself standing with my hand on my hip while I stir food in the stove like she used to. I feel connected when I wash my face in the morning and glimpse myself in the mirror looking like Mum Pham - except that she looks a bit blind because she can't see much when she takes her glasses off to wash her face, whereas my LASIK laser eyes are tired from not enough sleep.

I feel connected to Mum on Mother's Day when we celebrate with Dad Pham because it always falls near his birthday. This year it happened to be his birthday. We celebrated by making Dad one of his favourite dishes - bánh cuốn. But then because he'd spent his morning mopping the kitchen for Phamly feast, he was fast asleep before we got to dessert. That's OK, I'll be back this weekend for our tradition of sleepovers, and 5am wake up calls for the Eurovision Finale.


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Photo: The time I was coming home from Mum's remembrance ceremony at Dad's and copped a $261 fine and lost 3 demerit points. Ah, the good memories in this car.

When I moved back to Brisbane after Mum's passing, I was pretty broken and broke. Dad Pham took money out of this mortgage to buy me Luigi, a Hyundai Getz. Luigi was pummeled to death by hailstones and I got Luigi II thanks to RACQ insurance. And my desk buddy thinks insurance is a scam - tsk.

The Luigis helped me set up my life - going to job interviews, my daily commutes, moving houses, and now take Dad on his weekly grocery runs, and many a road trip up and down the Coast with friends. I've had some fun times with Luigi, but with my not so little eldest niece about ready to get her licence, it's time to pay Dad's good will forward to the next gen PhamLe.

For her birthday, I promised her my car once she gets her Ps because it's mainly P-platers and the elderly who drive the Getz. I'm too middle aged for my car. Now it's eldest niece's turn to set up life in this zippy, reliable little vehicle; and time for Aunty Jade to level up her car game.

So.... Any suggestions for a vroom-vroom?

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Dad Pham had a little heart scare when we got back from Europe in September 2017. He’s on a tonne of daily morning and evening medications now, which Little Sissy Pham dutifully packs each week when we visit. He is forever at risk of a stroke which is scary. He suffers from schizophrenia and that irrational part of him doesn't believe he has a heart condition so sometimes skips medicines that are keeping him alive, which is even scarier.

On one of these occasions he went to hospital with nausea and vomiting. When we later saw him at home, he told us to take his meagre savings when he passes away. Now, Dad Pham likes to preach about not being stingy because we can afford not to be tight-asses so it was shocking to learn he had saved some money. We were financially challenged growing up and into our late 20s but the Pham siblings have come good - we can all take care of ourselves these days, and each other and Dad Pham, which is probably why he could afford to save a bit of money on his single pension.

The point of helping Dad Pham out is so he can spend his twilight years enjoying himself and not having to worry about bills and meals and his kids. As soon as we found out he was saving money to pass onto us one day, we told him to 'Treat yo'self!' instead. It didn't take much convincing, to be honest. He recently got rid of his super old, ratty recliners. They were due to be tossed half a decade ago but he held onto them this long because Mum Pham had loved them so much.

We took him furniture shopping and Ted, a friendly salesman at the local A-Mart lucked out 'cause Dad Pham walked in and within 30 minutes had picked out a leather recliner and 10 dining chairs so we can finally seat everyone at the table. We had planned on me being single forever, but things changed so we've been one chair short ever since. Not any more!

As Dad likes to always tell me when I'm looking for a bargain while grocery shopping, "Stop being cheap - Mum only did that because we couldn't afford nice things. You have money - buy the best there is." Solid advice.

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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.

- THE END -

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
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Dad Pham used Little Sissy Pham's old, pink Motorola flip phone and would never have changed phones if it weren't for the whole 2G network becoming obsolete. For some reason (laziness) I left it to Little Sissy, the least techie of the three Pham siblings, to find Dad's next phone. She got Dad an Aspera F24 Seniors Big Button Flip Phone. The phone says it's for seniors but Dad found the user interface counterintuitive and the sound too quiet for his failing hearing. Dad struggled with it for nearly a year thinking his troubles with the phone were his failing to adopt new technology, but really the new technology was failing him. When he remembered how to turn on loudspeaker, the sound was fuzzy and hard to hear. Finally, he gave up and let us get him a new phone.

Round 2 started with Little Sis calling me an idiot for letting her choose Dad's phone and I should have done it. She's right. This time I went on the hunt for a seniors friendly phone that was intuitive, easy to use, and LOUD. I found the Olitech Easy Mate+ phone via intensive googling and research. There aren't too many phones for Seniors on the market and most seemed too much like the dudAspera F24. The Olitech Easy Mate+, however, is designed and produced by people who have worked in occupational therapy, and orthotics and prosthetics so they understand the accessibility challenges of technology for people who are less able-bodied.

Unfortunately, no big tech stores seem to have picked up this handset so I couldn't have a look at it in person before buying. Instead, I took a punt and ordered the phone direct from Olitech online. Worth it.

Dad loves his new phone and I do too. These days I can clearly hear Dad squirming to hang up on me. He's not a big talker so our calls are always super efficient and all about agreeing on logistics for Phamly plans, and occasionally an appointment or social event he needs one of us to taxi him to.

The sound quality on the Olitech Easy Mate+ is clear and loud. The buttons are nice and big. The user interface is easy to use because it's intuitive and logical. I only had to show Dad how to do things once and he got the hang of it. It's well thought out and designed. I cannot recommend this phone enough to seniors who just want a phone they can use to make calls and text.


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Even though he was far from Phamly in Brisbane, Dad had the best time in Melbourne with his old navy buddies. Melbourne was where he was most relaxed and, even though we were a poor Phamly and Mum had to stretch every cent of their pensions and our youth allowance to keep a roof over our heads, electricity in the home, and food on the table; it was also the first time Dad felt at home since he'd left Vietnam. Germany was where he had to make his home after the war, but we were very much outsiders. Melbourne is where he had community and friendship - and Vietnamese food!

Distance and Dad Pham's penchant for changing phone numbers every few years because he gets over being popular and wants to hermit for a while put him out of touch with most of his friends. Recently, a Melbourne friend called him after nearly a decade without contact and it sent him down memory lane.

Dad used to go for sauna and swim session most days, and morning walks or bike rides along Maribyrnong River with this friend. Bac Yen tracked down Dad's number through a mutual friend and for over an hour they caught up on each other's lives, compared old age battle stories, and reminisced about the past. For a full week, Dad was keen to win the lotto so he could move us all down to live in a row of townhouses and be near his favourite Melbourne people and spots. That fantasy died when he remembered how cold Melbourne gets, and how he can barely cope with Brisbane winters now. If anyone has lived through Brisbane winters, it's cardigan weather (if that) for Melbourne peeps.

Melbourne may have been the happiest time of his life, but Dad came to realise the past is past and even if he moved down things wouldn't be what they were. He and his friends no longer have the energy to go for long walks every day, and the massive feasts wouldn't be the same without Mum Pham to cook and host them.

I wonder what time in my life I will look back on as my fondest. I'm kinda loving where I'm at now. But Dad likes to remind me that I'm simple, and I'm always happy because I'm content with what I have. Maybe I won't have a favourite time of my life, because pretty much all of it is my favourite. Even Mum's inevitable passing, though devastating as it was, taught me to love and appreciate on a deeper level than I had before so I don't look back on that time as a bad part of my life.


- THE END -

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
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When we moved to Melbourne we had only lived in Australia for about 6 months. I had been to pre-school in Brisbane but I have zero memory of this. My first memory of schooling is going to English classes in Footscray Primary. We had a rental house in Footscray that my brain associates with rodents and Dad Pham would walk me to and from English school.

I think the main reason I remember English school is because of my friend, Tuyen. She was a chatterbox and would chat to everyone including my Dad when he came to walk me home. She'd tell him what we learned that day, how I was doing in class and how the teacher let me get away with anything, even not answering questions or completing tasks. I don't remember being a slacker, but Tuyen didn't seem a liar so I must have been - that, or I didn't understand what was being asked.

Mum Pham's favourite memory from my school days in Footscray wasn't from English classes though, it was from Vietnamese class. One day after school, she asked what I learned and I replied (in Viet), 'Today I learned cows breastfeed calves, and calves breastfeed cows.' She nearly died laughing. I didn't get what was so funny at the time, but she repeated that story to me year after year after year until I finally got it because I learned about reproduction, anatomy and the circle of life.


- THE END -

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
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Dad Pham and Mum Pham spoke more English than most other immigrant parents I knew growing up. I wouldn't say they were good English speakers but they had enough language to get by until Big Brother Pham was old enough to be The Phamly's interface with the real world.

Both my parents are intelligent people but in different ways. Mum was book smart and studious - her languages she learned through education. Even into her later years, Mum used to come across English words she didn't understand and would look them up in a dictionary, then write notes about the word in a notebook. Then she'd learn the words by rewriting them into yet another notebook. I am the same. I remember things by writing them down. If I type them, I forget but something about writing the words on paper stows it into my memory.

Dad Pham - well, he hated to study and says Vietnamese teachers couldn't pronounce English words properly, let alone teach others. The giant Vietnamese-English dictionary he had was inaccurate and useless when he tried to point at definitions to help communicate with English speakers. Dad's real English skills came from working and/or living with Americans in Vietnam, and a slim English-Vietnamese dictionary he remembers one of them giving him.

I'm always amazed by people who know multiple languages. My parents both knew Vietnamese, English, German and Mum Pham knew some French and understood Chinese because it's half her heritage. Then I remember my trip to Europe where it was the norm that everyone knew at least 2-3 languages, and I am an unworldly Australian ignoramus who by birth inherited Vietnamese but otherwise would have no language skills other than English.


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The first time we came to Brisbane from Germany, The Phamly didn't have the best run. We were renting a house on Wedgetail Street, around the corner from where Dad Pham and Big Brother Pham now live. I don't remember much of the time here - I was only 5 and the memories are flashes of scenery or moments that don't make sense because I'm missing context.

What I know is that something bad happened, and Mum Pham moved us away to Melbourne to be near her side of The Phamly after only 6 months in Brisbane. Mum and Dad never went into it when we were kids. But decades later, I'd learn it was because one of our relatives was a struggling heroin addict at the time and stole jewellery and cash from us for their habit. There was a big fight and Dad conceded to move The Phamly to Melbourne to be closer to Mum's side of the family.

I clearly remember one of the items that was stolen: Mum's jade bird necklace. It wasn't of much value compared to other heirlooms that were stolen but I loved that necklace. I used to play with it when Mum held me to her chest as a baby. It was of a bird in flight - similar to how children draw birds in the sky as two arched lines with curved tips. A plump version that was curved to a natural rock formation and polished with gold chain tassels on the tail. I've never been able to find anything close to the design. Maybe one day I will stumble across the original. It's somewhere in Brisbane still, I hope.

Since the initial robbery that made us up and move to Melbourne, my parents have helped bail this person out of other debts too. When I learned about everything that went down, my uni years suddenly made more sense. This relative used to visit us and would often sneak me a bit of cash for 'being a good girl.' I realise now they felt indebted to my parents and wanted to give something back once they were in a good place and could help.

Life would have been very different if we hadn't moved to Melbourne. But we did. And that's a story for next time.


- THE END -

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
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      • In loving memory of Dad Pham

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