A Familial Stranger

In the summer of 2024, I visited my grandmother Simone’s home in Hilton, New York for the first time since I was 14. My grandma, a Cambodian refugee, was sponsored to live in Rochester, NY in the 1980s and was later remarried to my step-grandpa Mike, a retired American firefighter with abusive tendencies. As her only child that survived the Cambodian Genocide, my mother has continuously offered to move my grandma to Rhode Island to live together, but Mike always refused to leave Hilton and my grandma felt obligated to take care of him. 

I only know my grandma through seldom visits from my childhood, gifts sent by mail, and video calls when my mom is cooking. Sometimes they would switch from speaking English to Khmer, and though I don’t speak much Khmer myself, I always knew the frustration in my grandmother’s voice and what she was talking about– their nine years of separation during the genocide remain undiscussed. Curious about my grandma’s situation, I drove to Hilton for the first time by myself. Though the house looked the way I remembered it, I could now see and feel my grandmother’s grief; from her plants that bear witness, to the intricate displays of her memories, to the lawn and trees she trims on her own.