Ocean Vuong
π€ SpeakerAppearances Over Time
Podcast Appearances
And then the next day he called me. He says, you know, I talked to my mom.
my grandmother she was actually 84 at the time uh she lives in richmond hill she thought she will not go anywhere you know she's an immigrant it's her first american home she raised two kids there her husband's gone she won't go but she has some illness i didn't know i just thought i was going to help someone take medic medic like like vitamins you know and i ended up living there for two and a half years while i was studying and helping take care of her take care of her yeah and
my grandmother she was actually 84 at the time uh she lives in richmond hill she thought she will not go anywhere you know she's an immigrant it's her first american home she raised two kids there her husband's gone she won't go but she has some illness i didn't know i just thought i was going to help someone take medic medic like like vitamins you know and i ended up living there for two and a half years while i was studying and helping take care of her take care of her yeah and
I mean, I was 20, 21. But what was interesting was that we kind of started like a family. Because I was living in this row house. Right next to the train, the A train. And then my partner Peter would start visiting more. And I'm like, are we dating? Are we not? Like, what is happening? I'm living with your grandmother. But it was kind of beautiful that we didn't name it. It just came over.
I mean, I was 20, 21. But what was interesting was that we kind of started like a family. Because I was living in this row house. Right next to the train, the A train. And then my partner Peter would start visiting more. And I'm like, are we dating? Are we not? Like, what is happening? I'm living with your grandmother. But it was kind of beautiful that we didn't name it. It just came over.
He's like, I think we're just together, right? Let's just try it out. And I lived in his mother's childhood room. down the hall from her. And it was a foundational experience in my life.
He's like, I think we're just together, right? Let's just try it out. And I lived in his mother's childhood room. down the hall from her. And it was a foundational experience in my life.
It certainly requires endurance because you are in a heightened place of selflessness and giving with no determinate end. And so there's a kind of faith of the act itself. Like, I'm like, I'm just going to be here for as long as it takes. But in a way, it's really sad because it should also be what is possible without illness, you know, giving your loved one your best self.
It certainly requires endurance because you are in a heightened place of selflessness and giving with no determinate end. And so there's a kind of faith of the act itself. Like, I'm like, I'm just going to be here for as long as it takes. But in a way, it's really sad because it should also be what is possible without illness, you know, giving your loved one your best self.
But then only when death nears do we truly do it, maybe because it's unsustainable otherwise.
But then only when death nears do we truly do it, maybe because it's unsustainable otherwise.
Yeah, yeah, I think so. Yeah. Yeah, that's good. Because there is no hope. You just want to almost merge with them. Like when I'm on my mother's deathbed, I said, Mom, anything, anything. And often she's just very political. You know, she just kept saying, like, raise me up. And we have this hospice bed. I'm like, Mom, it's the highest it can go. She's like, yeah, but keep raising me up.
Yeah, yeah, I think so. Yeah. Yeah, that's good. Because there is no hope. You just want to almost merge with them. Like when I'm on my mother's deathbed, I said, Mom, anything, anything. And often she's just very political. You know, she just kept saying, like, raise me up. And we have this hospice bed. I'm like, Mom, it's the highest it can go. She's like, yeah, but keep raising me up.
And I'm like, you know, and I just like, as a poet, all I can think about is the metaphor. I'm like, raise you up where? You know, are you going up there? And so it was, it changed everything for me. You know, everyone says that, but I think death becomes, it's just always here.
And I'm like, you know, and I just like, as a poet, all I can think about is the metaphor. I'm like, raise you up where? You know, are you going up there? And so it was, it changed everything for me. You know, everyone says that, but I think death becomes, it's just always here.
I don't know yet. This is the first book I wrote from start to finish without her being alive. And I told myself, like any young writer, that I was this avant-garde, counter-formalist. I saw myself on this kind of high horse. And I thought, I'll write whatever I want. And I was very proud of that.
I don't know yet. This is the first book I wrote from start to finish without her being alive. And I told myself, like any young writer, that I was this avant-garde, counter-formalist. I saw myself on this kind of high horse. And I thought, I'll write whatever I want. And I was very proud of that.
But I realized after my mother passed that I was actually just trying to do well in the world so that I could take care of my mom. Like everything was kind of a strategic, right? It's like, oh, I got to get this job. I got to be a professor. I got to get tenure now. I got to do service work. And I just secure my family because, you know, I have one salary. It's a good one.
But I realized after my mother passed that I was actually just trying to do well in the world so that I could take care of my mom. Like everything was kind of a strategic, right? It's like, oh, I got to get this job. I got to be a professor. I got to get tenure now. I got to do service work. And I just secure my family because, you know, I have one salary. It's a good one.
But even now, there's nine Vietnamese refugees who I take care of. It's a blessing. I don't see it as a burden.