One of the transitions that I have experienced in the past is coming to America, early in the morning of August 1991, I left my mother and the house where I'd grown up. My mother helped me carried heavy suitcases to the bus station. "Have you gotten everything what you need?', my mother asked. About a quarter of mile on the way to the bus station, my mother began talking about missing me in sad voice. "When you arrive in the US, remember to write me letter," My mother said. "Yes, I'll send letters and picture too." I replied.
             My Mom I rode the bus together to Saigon City. We stayed at my relative's house for a night. We were very tired from sitting in the crowed bus while moved shakingly on the unprepared road.
             The next morning, my mother and I took a taxi to the airport. I had my ticket and waited for them to call me. This movement was so important to me. I couldn't say anything to my mom for I was afraid that she wouldn't let me go. Either she would cry or I would. Tears blinded her eyes. She held my hands with her shaking hands and pleased with a suffering voice, "Take care of yourself and be good." I was almost in tears, so I could hardly speak. Suddenly, I called to the departure gate. I passed the suitcase to my right hand and gave her a long hug good bye. My mouth kept saying " Bye! Bye Mom" as I walk backward though the gate not wanting to lose sight of my mother. The further I went the harder it was to see her.
             Ten minutes later, the airplane turned around and began to take off. I saw my Mom though the tiny unclear window as she raised her hand high for me to see while I was inside the airplane. I wept my tear and felt that I had lost something very important that I would never find again. Sitting in the plane, I asked myself, "Will she be all right when I leave her alone?" I wished the weather had suddenly changed and delayed the flig...