Page 70 of Some Things Never Change

That question made her come to a halt as she turned to me. Over the years, many people had asked her the same question. She became a young, beautiful widow when my dad passed away. Everyone, including my father’s family, expected her to start dating or remarry eventually. But she never did.

“Being with your dad was more than enough for me,” replied my mom.

I nodded. I knew how much my parents loved each other and the thought of anyone else taking my dad's place was just unimaginable. But still, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness whenever I thought about my mom and how unfair this life was to her.

“But what about now?” I pressed on. “You’ve been alone for so long. Don’t you ever get lonely when Jonathan and I aren’t here?”

My mom smiled. “Not really. I have you and Jonathan, and the rest of our family. Plus, I have my work, my gardening, and Auntie Gao. I have a lot in my life that keeps me fulfilled,” she admitted. “People used to ask me all the time if I was ever going to remarry after Dad died and it has always been no. Naturally, most young widows move on and remarry. But your dad and I loved each other greatly, and I know I won’t find anyone like him again. I’d rather be alone than be with someone who only makes me half as happy as he did.”

I blinked, trying to hold back the tears. “If you could go back and choose whether to relive this life with Dad again, would you?”

My mom gave me a tender yet amused look. “Tsawg tiam los yeej yuav ua neej nrog koj txiv li os.” No matter how many lifetimes, I will always choose to be together with your dad.

My mom used the Hmong words ‘ua neej,’ which translates to ‘live together’ in English. In a cultural aspect, these words mean a lifetime of dedication, devotion, and marriage. Her answer was simple. She would always pick my dad, either in this life or the next. It would always be him, no matter how little time they had together. I nodded with a lump in my throat.

For most of my life, I had seen my mom grieve the life my dad and she lost, especially for big moments like our graduations or college acceptance letters or major career advancements. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how emotional she would be when either Jonathan or I got married or one of us started having kids.

Regardless, my mom’s words hit home for me.

She would rather live a life with the person that made her happy than with one that didn’t bring her an ounce of that, even if it would be painful.

I’m glad I didn’t let my fear of losing Andy hold me back anymore. I’m glad I took the risk of telling Andy the truth because living in this happiness was better than never knowing it. If I hadn’t, I knew I would have lived the rest of my life regretting how I never took this chance even if Andy was going to confess anyway. I’m glad I did this for myself.

As Andy and I left our hometown in the early evening, I couldn’t help but feel wistful that we were already leaving. It would be hours before we reached the city, and I already missed the people I loved living here.

“I can’t believe you made my dad cry,” laughed Andy.

I scoffed, watching the acres of agriculture pass by us as we made our way out of town. Everything was bare, but you could see tiny signs of life sprouting back now that winter was almost over.

“It wasn’t intentional,” I said. I turned to look at him as he raised an eyebrow. “I just wanted him and your mom to know how much the two of them meant to Jonathan and I. They’re practically our second parents. Your parents are great people, Andy.”

“They can be yours too if you like.”

I knew exactly what he meant by that. Brides often marry into the groom’s family in the Hmong culture. They become part of the family and refer to their in-laws as Mom and Dad as well. Although Andy’s family was far from being a conventional and traditional Hmong family, he clearly wasn’t shy in suggesting that if I wanted his parents to be mine, too, then they would if we got married. He said it so casually that my heart skipped a beat.

“I’d love that,” I said, all too out of breath.

I watched a sheepish smile stretch across Andy’s kissable lips. “S-Stop that. You’re making my heart race.”

“Why are you acting all shy now? You’re the one that started it.”

“I didn’t expect you to come back with that kind of reply. You’re supposed to be the one that’s stammering. Not me.” Andy shook his head.

I rolled my eyes, feeling the heat on my cheeks intensify as I smiled. “Can’t you just be happy that I said yes?”

Andy chuckled. “I’m more than happy, Tink.”

He squeezed my hand in response as he continued to drive with one hand. I loved feeling the familiar warmth that always radiated from him. We sat in silence for some time as we drove farther south, just enjoying each other’s comforting presence.

“Andy?”

“Yeah?”

“Was there ever a time you wanted to tell me how you felt about me?

He paused for a moment before answering. “I did, but I was a kid and didn’t know what I felt for you was love for a long time. The whole time growing up, I just thought it was a crush, even though I didn’t really have a good track record with girls. I mean, sure, I was dating them in hopes of getting over whatever I felt with you. But, still, I?—”

“What? You were dating to get over me?”

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