Top 10 Memorable New Year's Eve Statuses

I remember the Tet celebrations of years gone by... the nights spent watching the making of bánh chưng and playing with friends in the neighborhood... the excitement of watching the cakes cook... I remember the Tet of those old days... the night of the 30th, when all we looked forward to was the 'Táo Quân' program... sitting with the family, sharing sweets and sunflower seeds... Those moments feel like they’ll never come back... Now, it seems even the simple wish of a family reunion during Tet is becoming rare... How could we ever hope for Tet celebrations like we had in the past...

Tet, Tet, Tet is almost here...

It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced the Tet atmosphere on the 30th evening in Saigon. I miss how everything becomes quieter and more peaceful on the 30th, with fewer people around, the streets seem to hush in a strange way. I miss the last market rush before the New Year, feeling for the flower sellers hurrying to make their sales before catching the last bus home to be with their families. I miss the pots of bánh tét made by my mom, and the pickled vegetables she always made, packed in jars to share with neighbors for a little joy during the Tet holiday. So many memories flood back, too many to recount... It’s been a long time since Saigon last smelled the scent of Tet firecrackers... And here it is, the end of the year is near, and I’m another year older... Excited that another year has passed.

The 30th of Tet, the last day of the year, feels as though THE WORLD IS GENTLY COMING TO AN END, a tender conclusion to welcome a brand-new world filled with countless new possibilities.

As we've grown, Tet no longer carries the dreamy colors of the past but is replaced by the weight of responsibilities. Yet Tet remains a sacred, meaningful holiday. It’s not that Tet is no longer as it once was, nor that it has lost its charm. What has changed is simply that with each passing year, our responsibilities grow, leaving us with fewer of the youthful thrills we once had. But surely, the most meaningful part of this holiday is still the reunion. It’s about those days off spent with family, wrapping banh chung together, preparing the Tet feast, cleaning the house, and decorating the peach blossoms and kumquat trees. Yes, Tet is busy, but it’s a busy shared with family — a kind of busyness I look forward to all year to spend with my loved ones.

Tet is the time to hustle and clean the house, bidding farewell to the old year while decorating for the new one. It’s the moment to let go of work and daily stress to be with family.

Tet is when we find our Mother’s bright smile, or spot the deep wrinkles etched on our Father’s face.

Tet is when we gather together to cook simple dishes, yet they carry deep meaning. For no seasoning is as flavorful as the bond of family.

Tet is the time to forget past grievances, to offer apologies — to ourselves for what we haven’t yet achieved, and to our loved ones for everything else!

Tet is the time to express gratitude — thanking ourselves for the effort, even if the results aren't as hoped, for no journey is longer than the steps we take. And thanking those who care for us, love us, and support us.

Tet is when friends share stories, whether happy or sad. It’s when we open up to one another, despite any awkward questions, because we care about things that go beyond the surface. For the ones who ask those questions are concerned with things that truly matter: family and finances, as they too are striving like us. Let's share and be honest with ourselves, for Tet is the time to truly understand each other!

Tet is when I feel the most at peace, for no place is warmer than Grandma’s kitchen, no meal sweeter than Mother’s rice, no moment more precious than the last sunset of the 30th day of Tet, and no scent more comforting than the incense my Father burns at midnight. The smoky air of the last days of the year may sting the eyes, but it’s also the feeling of the greatest tranquility!

Though Tet comes in cycles, each year carries its own unique flavor. Growth adds depth to that flavor — a bit of hardship, a bit of worry to complete the year’s final meal, and to strengthen family bonds. This year, let’s try spending Tet away from home... so that future celebrations will be even richer in meaning.

On the last day of the year, cradling the warmth of winter in the palm of my hand, I breathe in the pure scent of the morning — the soft sunlight waiting for the wind by the window. I listen to the quiet drip of coffee falling into the cup, breaking the silence, much like the fleeting moment that bridges the old year and the new, no longer separated by time.

The end of the year is a time filled with unfinished plans, unachieved dreams, and tasks left incomplete. Yet, here we are, preparing to step into a new year, with a world of fresh possibilities awaiting us ahead.

I wonder how many children today still get to experience the excitement of wrapping rice cakes and anxiously watching over the pot on the 30th night of Tet? My favorite memory was learning from my parents or grandparents to wrap my very own tiny rice cake, to cook it alongside the others, and eagerly awaiting the moment it was finally lifted from the pot.

A bit of nostalgia for Tet

The pot of rice cakes on the night of the 30th.

Every time the weather cools down in late December, I find myself missing the warmth of the fire and the comforting sight of the rice cake pot. Almost every year, my maternal grandparents would cook rice cakes on the 30th night. The fire would start from the evening, enduring through the New Year’s Eve until early morning. As a child, I always looked forward to the arrival of Tet, especially as the days near the end seemed to drag on endlessly. The joy of relatives returning home to gather for the celebration, felt so lively, unlike the usual quiet days.

Now, after many decades, I sometimes think that the magic of those childhood moments has faded. The rush and busyness of life have dulled that pure, innocent feeling. Yet, the memories of those Tet holidays remain vivid, reminding me of the warmth and joy of returning home for the festivities.

The closer Tet gets, the more I crave rice cakes, the more I long for the hustle and bustle before the 30th night. I yearn for the feeling of wrapping the cakes by hand, staying up all night watching the pot, and then enjoying them the next morning. I miss the excitement of going to the Tet market, decorating the house, and preparing the five-fruit tray. But more than anything, I long to come home...