Nikki proudly identifies as Vietnamese and has held onto her cultural roots while embracing her life in the U.S. She is the owner and manager of an RV park, a business she runs with pride and care, often building close-knit relationships with the residents and treating them like extended family. She's lived many lives as she's seen both America's and Vietnam's way of life. One of the most special things about Nikki is her deep love for cooking. Whether it’s traditional Vietnamese dishes or something new she’s trying out, she pours her heart into every meal. For her, food is more than just sustenance, rather it’s a way to bring people together, show love, and create lasting memories.

To know Nikki is to feel warmth, strength, and generosity. She embodies what it means to age with grace and purpose, rooted in family, culture, and care for others.

Later in life, Nikki helped fund what would become a successful family-run RV park. While her brother-in-law started the business, it was her financial backing and dedication that played a major role in its growth. Today, she still oversees much of the operations and is respected by both residents and family for her leadership.

Family, however, hasn’t always been smooth. Like many immigrant families, financial disagreements caused deep rifts with siblings over the years. Although she has reconciled with my dad, tensions remain with others. This is a reminder of how money can strain even the closest bonds. Still, Nikki continues to offer help to family members who need it, proving that her heart remains open. Now, with fewer responsibilities and more freedom, Nikki lives a flexible lifestyle. She still works occasionally, but also travels often, returning to Vietnam, exploring Thailand, and visiting China. Whether it’s building a business, healing a family, or hopping countries in her 60s, Nikki continues to write new chapters with strength and grace!

Behind her playful and adventurous spirit lies a childhood marked by emotional pain and silent battles with depression. Growing up in post-war Vietnam, life was hard. So she masked it with her flaming urge of for entertainment. There were no therapists or safe spaces, so Nikki found freedom in exploration. She would run through alleyways, hop trains, and lose herself in the streets. That was her therapy. She found peace in motion, and joy in friendships, and many of which still exist today, a testament to her lasting impact on those around her. Her stories aren’t just memories. These are evidence of a life defined by quiet courage, big heart, and unshakable loyalty.

And yet, her heart hasn’t hardened. Her loyalty runs deep, especially toward her older sisters, whom she treats like second mothers. From the U.S., she monitors their safety through cameras installed in their homes back in Vietnam, constantly checking in, always watching over them, even from thousands of miles away.

Nikki lives by action, not words. Her independence doesn’t mean isolation. It means protection, strength, and showing love in the way she knows best: by always being there, even silently.

But aging has opened her eyes.

Now, in her 60s, Nikki finds herself softening. She sees the world through a more compassionate lens, and she cares deeply for those she loves, especially her family. Her bond with me is something she cherishes, a reflection of how much her heart has grown.

She often reminisces about the past- both the joy and the pain. Some memories are light and playful, while others are deeply emotional, unspoken but not forgotten. Time has taught her that even the hardest moments shape us. And while she may not share every chapter, the look in her eyes says it all.

During the Vietnam War, Nikki’s life was surrounded by uncertainty, loss, and silence. Her father, my grandfather, was an honorable general who fought bravely alongside the Americans against North Vietnam. Because of his commitment to duty, Nikki and her siblings rarely, if ever, got to see him. His absence wasn’t just physical. It left an emotional mark that shaped the entire family’s experience of growing up during wartime. My dad tells me stories of my grandfather all the time, including his wartime experiences to his changed personality after war. To this day, that memory stays with her. It’s one of the deep, difficult truths she carries. It's one she doesn’t often speak of, but that never really fades. When those feelings rise, she turns to old Vietnamese songs, which are the classics from her youth. These are to soothe her heart. Each lyric carries pieces of who she is, who she was, and what she’s endured. And somehow, through every note, she finds peace.

She once told me she left some money behind for me-a gesture that means more than words. It’s her way of saying: "I believe in you. I built something, so you can as well." And truthfully, she doesn’t have to say anything else. Just looking at her life, this being how she’s lived it, how she’s stood tall through pain and pressure, is all the message I need. Nikki motivates me. She reminds me that I can live boldly, travel far, and stay grounded in who I am, no matter what comes my way.

She’s taught me that exploration, resilience, and independence is power!
That sometimes, we don't actually need anyone, and that's totally fine.

Her legacy isn’t just in what she’s done, but in what she’s inspired.