Thuy Madalena Ngo

It is with deep heart break that we let go of our beloved and mighty mother, life partner, grandmother, great grandmother and friend, Thuy (Madalena) Mong Ngo. With “beautiful sadness,” we also celebrate her life and remember her for her fortitude, love, and compassion.

Mong Thuy was born in 1939, into a war-torn world and a century-oppressed Vietnam, in a small northern village called Thanh Hoa. Her childhood was filled with unimaginable loss, adversity and unjustness, all of which she overcame through incredible inner strength, determination and grace. She found a life partner in our father at the age of 14 and together they found our home in Saigon, where they built an impenetrable family, with seven children and our grandmother (maternal). We would often marvel at how our petite mother carried each and every one of us seven in her womb, nourished us from her bosom and meticulously cared for and loved us without abandon, while running a small neighborhood bodega to make ends meet. What’s more remarkable was how she maintained such beauty and radiance through it all.

Our family life was violently disrupted on April 30, 1975 when Saigon fell to Communist rule. After an arduous and brutal refugee escape to the United States, our family settled in the San Francisco Bay Area. Again, we were all in awe of our mother’s courage and fierce strength even as she underwent treatment for and recovered from cancer, while navigating acute challenges in a new land. She and our father took on the first unskilled jobs they could find and worked tandem shifts to ensure full time care for us children, put food on the table and pay bills. Through all this hardship, our mother made sure that holidays were full of magical decorations, festivities and full bellies. One example of her persistence in this regard was when she saved vouchers from nine months’ worth of grocery trips to buy a proper set of dinnerware for our family of 10.

Her life was real and raw, but she was still a hopeless romantic. She reveled in the fact that she married for love and not out of duty to family or antiquated cultural expectations. Her favorite movie was Dr. Zhivago, a love story against the backdrop of war and hardship, to which she closely related. Her favorite TV shows were the Love Boat and Fantasy Island --they were light-hearted and balanced out Zhivago’s intensity. She was a Libra after all.

Her appreciation for romance, aesthetics and celebrations extended to her work at her church. She didn’t settle for the same formulaic church fundraisers, but elevated them to inspirational fashion shows, whimsical musicals and culinary festivals. For a number of years, she and her best friend, Bac Hien would take regular hikes at their favorite park, Rancho San Antonio. We remember how carefree those days were for her. She, with our father, also had the opportunity to travel throughout the States, to Europe, Hawaii and make several treks back to Vietnam to visit family and explore her homeland from a Vietnamese-American’s lens.

Reuniting with long lost family and reflecting on her life’s journey in the various places she called home brought a flood of emotions for her. She found expression of her nostalgia by writing and journaling. And as she wrote and wrote, her journals evolved to be dozens of chapters in several volumes of books. We all supported her as an amateur author, with the pen name Thuy An, and threw her a book reading celebration --with a captive audience. This was all cathartic for her, and she was so proud. Our mother and father co-authored the writings with her as his muse. These books are entitled Thung Lung Hoa Vang and Thuong Ve Di Vang, and are catalogued at various local libraries and sold at rare book stores such as Bolerium Books in San Francisco, California.

Mom, you are our hero. You transcended so much pain and tragedy bringing us into this world. You overcame so much struggle to raise us into the people we are today. You loved us more fiercely than you were ever loved. You never gave up on us. We never gave up (and will never give up) on you, but we wanted to release you from your pain. Be free and happy, Mom. We love you madly and eternally.

Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at www.limafamilycedarlawn.com for the Ngo family.