The Last Thing My Grandpa Taught Me

If my grandpa was still alive today, I would apologize. I would apologize for not being grateful as a child when he took me to the San Diego zoo every week. I would apologize for not saying thank you when he wiped my butt after pooping on the toilet like a big boy. I would apologize for not calling him as I grew up just to see how he was doing. I would apologize for not making time to come down and see him after I became a man. I would apologize for not telling him about the pregnancy and elopement wedding in Vegas. I would apologize for not bringing my son around as much as I should have. I would apologize for not doing more when he was dying from liver cancer. 

This week I did some advertising tests and the results triggered memories of my grandfather. The data showed that a majority of our Facebook page’s new followers are over the age of 55. It was then that I remember speaking at his funeral. My strongest memory of my grandpa comes in the flavor of hot chocolate. As a kid, I didn’t speak Laotian but I knew how to ask for hot chocolate. I would ask him for one every single night and he was so happy to make it for me. I remember it being the richest, most delicious hot chocolate I’ve ever had in my whole life. It was so incredible, even as an adult I pestered him about what brand it was and after buying it myself, I felt like he was mistaken. It didn’t taste the same. I tried every brand the local Asian supermarket had and I was never able to find that perfect hot chocolate my grandfather made. As I looked upon his casket, that’s when it occurred to me: food is love.

Things taste better when you’re surrounded by people you love and people who love you. That’s the last thing my grandpa taught me. He loved me unconditionally and even if he heard my apology, he would not take me seriously. You see, I didn’t know this until the funeral but my grandpa was captured during the Vietnam War and was a prisoner of war for over ten years. During that time, he was separated from our family and they had no idea if he was dead or alive. When the war ended, he was released and after some hardship, finally reunited with the family. I was one of the first grandchildren he got to see after coming to America. To him, we were a miracle. That life was born from so much death. That his family was alive and thriving. He never told me this story. He never shared his feelings or struggle during the war. I believe it’s because he wanted the war to end with his generation. He didn’t see a need for his grandchildren to be cursed by the tragedies of that experience. He wanted us to look forward to the opportunities in America. I want to honor my grandfather’s lesson about food and love by using one of his delicious recipes and sharing it with Ultralight Ideas.

There is a Laotian beef jerky that all the family loves and even the children line up for during family gatherings. I’ve seen how it’s made and I think it’ll be the perfect ultralight beef to bring on a backpacking trip. I see beef jerky that’s currently on the market filled with all these excessive ingredients and preservatives. I wanted something that’s real, easy on the stomach, without all the BS and couldn’t find anything. So I decided I could make it myself. I’ve asked my aunt about how to prepare this jerky and I’ll be documenting everything I discover. If you’re interested, then please join the facebook group and I’ll be sure to send you a sample! Thanks for reading and make sure you reach out to your parent or grandparent today and let them know you care while they’re still alive!

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