Ten years to the day after our Thai wedding, my parents and Jip and I all re-lived the event with a visit to Jip’s mom and grandma in the village. Their house is where Jip grew up, and is the only one Jip’s mom (right) has ever lived in. Last time we were there , 96-year-old Grandma told Jip, “It’s good you came. I might never get to see you again.”
But she seems in good form. Our welcome, this time mid-afternoon instead of after midnight, again made the six-hour drive worthwhile. Everyone just lit up. And by going down during the day, I remembered how pretty it is in the part of the country. The hills of Burma look inviting in the distance. Beachcombers gauge their progress by how much they can see of the glistening clifftop temple.
Jip’s older brother acted like a chamber of commerce director, touring Ma and Pa, as well as a couple of CDC friends who came along for the ride. After dropping them at a hotel, he and his wife took me to a bustling Saturday night market where the food choices beat anything I’d seen in Bangkok.
The routine at the house was slow and easy. Jip seemed content from start to finish. I could get used to this.
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