A lasting and happy marriage.

(Baonghean) - Their marriage has lasted nearly 90 years. Through all those years together, through ups and downs and hardships, when asked about the milestones in their lives, they recall past Tet holidays filled with memories...

The elderly couple, "living happily ever after," are Mr. Cao Vien (born in 1908) and Mrs. Vu Thi Hai (born in 1914) from Hamlet 2, Dien Hoa Commune, Dien Chau District. When we visited, Mr. Cao Vien was busy tending the stove in the kitchen, while Mrs. Vu Thi Hai leaned against the headboard of the bed, watching him work. Mrs. Vu Thi Hai slowly explained that her health was weaker than her husband's, her hearing had deteriorated significantly, and for the past few years she had only been able to move around the house and could no longer help him or their children and grandchildren with chores. "Usually, our youngest daughter, who is only 60 years old, comes over to sweep and help, but now she's busy, so he does it himself." We offered to help him boil water in the kitchen, but she brushed it off: "He prefers to do housework at his own pace, not wanting to bother anyone. Working is also a way for him to relax..."

Mr. Cao Vien and Mrs. Vu Thi Hai.

According to the Vietnamese age calculation (including the lunar age), Mrs. Vu Thi Hai is 102 years old this year. Her advanced age and frail health show the lines of time clearly on her body, but her face and manner of speaking exude a benevolent, sharp, and witty demeanor. The conversation was quite… noisy, as we had to speak loudly for her to hear clearly. Both she and her husband are from Phuong Lich village, in Dien Hoa commune. Phuong Lich village is famous for its Bui fabric weaving, immortalized in the folk song: "Living in Bui fabric, buried in gold." To put it simply, Mrs. Vu Thi Hai herself was a renowned skilled weaver in Phuong Lich village in the past, weaving large bolts of fabric to sell at the Hom market. She said: "There are two types of woven fabric: dry cocoon fabric, cheap, only in indigo or earthy brown for laborers to wear, stiff and rough. Another, more expensive type is dyed in many colors; this type was rarely made because people were poor back then, and few bought it." The fabrics from Phuong Lich village are renowned for their durability and beauty, crafted by the skillful hands of the village's pretty girls. These two factors have made the monthly markets in Phuong Lich particularly lively, especially during the Tet holiday…

Mr. Cao Vien slowly carried the teapot upstairs, his back hunched, his steps somewhat unsteady due to age-related joint pain. He carefully reattached his hearing aid, then cleared his throat and asked, "What brings you here, young men and women?" We explained our visit and asked to chat a little about the daily lives of the elderly. He chuckled and said, "My wife and I have been married for a long time, had eight children but only managed to raise seven. Now we have a total of 35 grandchildren and 55 great-grandchildren, and soon we'll have a few great-great-grandchildren..." The two of them now live a peaceful life together, while their children and grandchildren have all started their own families and are busy with work and studies. Their youngest daughter, Mrs. Cao Thi Que (1955), usually does the shopping and cooking; if she's busy, she sends a neighbor to buy groceries and cooks herself. "My wife's hands and feet are shaky, but I can still cook," Mr. Cao Vien said.

At the age of 17, the tall and strong Cao Vien joined the civilian labor force, working alongside young people from Phuong Lich village and neighboring villages to build dikes and roads, actively participating in patriotic movements. At 23, he returned home to inform his family, bringing betel nuts and leaves to propose marriage to Vu Thi Hai, who was 18 years old. Life was impoverished; land was scarce, and they had many children. His wife stayed home weaving cloth, while his father and his friends worked as tile makers in Luong. His mother said they were so poor that Tet (Lunar New Year) was just like any other day; his parents and seven children would slurp cassava and sweet potato porridge for three days, only managing to respectfully decorate the ancestral altar with a pair of sticky rice cakes filled with a little lard and scallions. Then, she sadly recalled the famine of 1945, when she and her husband already had four children: “We were so hungry we didn’t even have bran to eat. The whole village was like that, not just ours. That Tet, we went scavenging for sweet potatoes in the fields, chopped them up, and added a little salt to make our New Year’s Eve meal…” The memories of the centenarian are like a hazy mist, appearing and disappearing; she uses Tet (Lunar New Year) as a way to mark milestones in her life. “I still remember the Independence Day Tet of 1975. I was in the middle of roofing my house when I heard the whole village banging gongs. Everyone was shouting: ‘We’ve won! We’ve won!’ That’s when we knew our country was independent… That year, the village celebrated Tet on a grand scale.”

In Cao Vien's stories, the hardships of poverty are vividly portrayed, but he repeatedly emphasizes that, no matter how poor they were, they always taught their children to live decent lives, "cleanliness even in poverty, dignity even in rags." Then, he reached for his walking stick in the corner, hobbled to the bed, and searched for the long poem he had written to admonish his children and grandchildren about family traditions and customs. He titled the poem "Instructions for Children and Grandchildren," conveying his heartfelt wishes to future generations. Without needing to show respect, Cao Vien took the paper and read aloud:

"...Even though the fields are so fertile."

We must also hold onto our skills and craft.

Mastering one skill brings honor and prosperity.

"Laziness inevitably leads to poverty and hunger..."

..."Stop being so ungrateful to life."

A loyal and honest heart will bring lasting blessings.

Don't worry too much about things that haven't happened yet.

Don't dwell on the past.

"The four seasons are in harmony with the spring breeze..."

Mr. Cao Vien's voice was clear and cheerful, his bright eyes occasionally sparkling with a playful, joyful expression. He proactively suggested that instead of talking about the past, they should talk about the future! Then he proudly spoke of his nearly hundred children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren who were always diligently working and studying, some of whom were studying and working abroad… Then, he took his wife's hand, looking at her affectionately: “I’m still healthy, but you’ve become much weaker. You’ve suffered your whole life, toiling to earn a living, through war and turmoil, raising children and grandchildren. Now that we’re old, all we hope for is the development of our children and grandchildren, the prosperity of society, and we’re happy that every year ‘the elders’ come to visit, give gifts, and make new clothes for us.” In Mr. Vien’s words, “the elders” refers to representatives of the government at all levels who, every year during the Spring Festival and Tet, regularly visit the elderly, a gesture of gratitude from the younger generation to the elders of their homeland.

We said goodbye to the elderly couple and returned to town to catch the afternoon bus. Even after disappearing behind the familiar green arched iron gate, we looked back and still saw them holding hands, gazing out at the courtyard bathed in soft sunlight, as if they had been just as peaceful and loving nearly a hundred years ago, and would remain so in the future…

Phuong Chi