Top 5 Best Essays About Family Members I Haven't Seen in a Long Time

On the early days of winter, as the weather turned colder, I went to bed earlier than usual. Lying next to my grandmother, I listened to the soft songs she used to sing when I was younger. Before long, her sweet voice lulled me into a deep sleep. In my dream, my grandfather returned and spoke with me.

My grandfather, now around 70 years old, has been gone since I was just beginning my first year in school. Time passes quickly, and it feels like it has been nearly a decade since I last lived with him and heard his deep, loving voice.

I vividly remember that dream, where I saw my grandfather, his familiar thin figure, walking toward me as I was studying. I joyfully ran to embrace him. His warm hands gently stroked my head as he led me from my desk to the small chair where we once practiced reading together. Though it had been so long, he still looked nearly the same as before. His face, once radiant and kind, now showed signs of aging with many wrinkles. His deep eyes had dimmed slightly, but his ears were still sharp. It seemed that only his silver hair clearly reflected the passage of time.

He asked how I was doing in my studies, and I proudly shared my achievements. Every word he nodded to in approval, praising my progress compared to before. I felt his joy and pride for me. Yet, he reminded me to use these accomplishments as motivation to keep striving. He wanted me to always be diligent in my studies, train myself, and never forget the gratitude I owe to my parents and teachers. I sat in silence, reflecting on his wise words. I then asked about his health. He reassured me that he was well and always thinking of us. He hoped that I would take care of my grandmother in his stead. Deeply moved, I didn't know how to respond, so I simply looked at him and nodded as an answer. We continued to talk for a while longer, as he told me many stories that he used to share. We conversed happily, and his warm voice and laughter filled the small house.

As the night grew late, the silence and stillness of the night seemed unusual. I asked him, or rather innocently complained, "Why don’t you visit us more often? Have you forgotten us? This time, you must stay here for a long while to be with us." He gently replied, "Remember that I am always with you." After saying that, he quietly walked toward the door. Fearing to be separated from him, I rushed after him, but he seemed to drift further away, occasionally turning to wave goodbye. I cried out for him, but upon realizing that I had been dreaming, I woke up. It was a dream I would never forget.

I will always cherish and remember this precious dream. Though it was not real, every word and gesture he shared with me serves as inspiration for me to keep striving in life.

A new year has come again, Mother! "I looked up at the night sky and thought about my beloved mother. It's been three years since she went abroad. I remember when she was here, she would take me to the flower market and shopping during the New Year season. I sat, lost in thought, before drifting into sleep.

"Hong!" I heard a voice calling from afar. I turned around and found myself standing in the park where my mother used to take me when I was young. A figure was approaching me, and though I felt it was familiar, something about it seemed strange. "Could it be her?" I thought to myself. I hurried closer to see more clearly. Yes, it was my mother! My heart was filled with overwhelming joy and happiness. Unable to contain my emotions, I shouted, "Mom!" and ran toward her, embracing her. She too opened her arms wide to embrace me.

My mother said with a choked voice:

"Hong! My child!"

I burst into tears at the sight of my beloved mother after so many days apart. It was only then that I noticed her more carefully. Her hair now had a few streaks of gray. The wrinkles from the hardships of life abroad marked the corners of her eyes. But there was one thing about her that had not changed: her smile.

Her smile remained gentle and brought me a sense of peace and happiness. While I was still gazing at her loving face, I was startled when her voice broke the silence:

- Let’s sit on that bench and talk, it’s been so long since we’ve had a conversation.

I nodded:

- Yes, Mom!

We walked to our old favorite bench. She gently stroked my hair and asked:

- How’s the family doing?

I replied:

- Everyone is fine, Mom!

Grandfather occasionally suffers from joint pain, and the uncles are still working. They often mention you and everyone misses you so much.

My mother smiled gently:

- I see. How are your studies going?

Are you still keeping your dream of becoming a journalist?

I quickly responded:

- This year’s studies have been tougher and more exhausting than before. It’s the final year, so besides regular classes, I also have to study more to strengthen my knowledge. And to make my dream of becoming a journalist come true, I’ve been sending articles to the newspapers, Mom. I won’t let you or anyone down.

Her words gave me even more confidence:

- Yes! I believe in you.

Keep working hard, my child. No matter what happens, whether good or bad, always share it with me. Hearing her warm voice made me feel closer to her. I knew that even far away, in a foreign land, she always thought of me, followed my every step, and cared about all my joys and sorrows. Everything I’ve accomplished today is thanks to her encouragement. The love she gave me has helped me overcome life’s difficulties and challenges. How sacred and beautiful a mother’s love is! I’ve been missing her so much, but now we’re together again. How happy I am! I thought to myself: "Mom, we’re together again. Please don’t leave me again." Then I fell into a deep, joyful thought. Everything around me started to fade away...

"Hong! Wake up, why are you sleeping like that? The new year is about to begin. Will you come out and watch the fireworks with the family?" I rubbed my eyes and saw the clock almost striking twelve. I looked around, confused, only to realize it had been a dream. I looked up at the night sky, and the fireworks lit up the sky. Another new year had come. I whispered to the night sky, to the fairy of spring, hoping that the fairy would deliver my message to my mother: "Mom, I miss you so much. Please come back soon."

Family – those two words alone carry such warmth. When people talk about family, they think of the loving arms of a mother, the strong shoulders of a father, the kind and gentle smile of grandparents... And you, who do you think of? For me, the first person who comes to mind when I think about family is my older sister, Mai Trang – whom I haven’t seen in a long time.

My sister, Mai Trang, was 18 years old when I was born, and now she is 30, a woman with a family and a successful career. Five years ago, she got married, and two years later, she settled in South Korea. She is a beautiful and talented doctor. I still remember the last time I saw her during the Lunar New Year when I was in fifth grade. It’s been two years since then, and she hasn’t returned to Vietnam. In my memory, she is tall, fair-skinned, and has a graceful, heart-shaped face that draws people in with her friendly and approachable smile. Many times, she’s said that her patients love her because of that smile.

When I was little, she was a beautiful and charming young woman. My parents often told me that I was a wonderful surprise, a joy to the whole family. My older brother and sister were already grown, and I became the little treasure of the family. My mother said that my sister particularly loved and pampered me. Whenever she came back from studying in the city, she would spend her days off carrying me around the village to show off her little sister. Many young people in the neighborhood didn’t realize it and were surprised, thinking that my sister had a child. She would joke, saying that I, as a tiny baby, was actually her daughter.

As I grew older, I became more and more like her. My brother would joke, saying, “Why do you two look more alike every day? You look just like Trang when she was young. Why don’t you ever look like me?” Perhaps that’s why I always gravitated toward her. Every time I came home from school and saw her, I would jump for joy. I had so many toys, dolls of all sizes, all displayed in a glass cabinet. All those dolls were birthday gifts from my sister Trang, from the time I was one year old until now. I remember that once, when she was in her second year of university, working part-time for the first time, the first thing she bought with her earnings was a beautiful doll for me. I was only two years old, and I couldn’t stop hugging it. At bedtime, I insisted that my mother place it next to me before I could fall asleep. That doll was made of fabric, and I still take it out to look at sometimes.

When I began to understand things, my sister was busy with her medical internship and job hunting, so she didn’t come home often. But almost every week, she would call to check on me. She never forgot to send birthday gifts, or moon cakes for the Mid-Autumn Festival. My classmates were all envious that I had such a beautiful, talented, and caring sister. The day she got married, I cried for hours, pleading that she not go. It took my parents a long time to comfort me, and I finally stopped crying when I saw her dressed as a bride, climbing into the wedding car.

She became a doctor at a large hospital, and after two years, she moved with her husband to South Korea. My parents were both sad and happy. Though she would be far away, at least she would have a great future ahead of her. Before she left, she brought her three-month-old son to my mother and hugged me like when I was a child, whispering, “I will come back to visit you every year and bring you more dolls. Be sure to listen to mom and your brother, and when you’re older, I’ll ask mom and dad to let you come visit me for the summer.” After that, they left. In her first year abroad, she came back to Vietnam twice – once during Mid-Autumn Festival and again during the Lunar New Year, keeping her promise and bringing me lots of gifts. But in the past two years, due to her busy work and a new daughter, she couldn’t come back. She promised that this year, she would definitely return.

From time to time, she still calls to talk to me and sends gifts on my birthday. Hearing her soft voice on the phone makes me miss her more than ever and makes me long for the day we’ll be reunited. She is my beloved sister, the one who treated me like her own daughter, showering me with love and care. I eagerly await the day I can see her again and hold her in my arms.

Dreams are what you wish for, what you long for, and then one night they come true in a dream. And one day, I suddenly dreamt of my grandmother, the one who always showered me with love and affection.

My grandmother passed away three years ago, and to this day, I still want to believe that she just went somewhere far away, not that she has truly left this world. People often say that if you keep someone in your thoughts, you’ll meet them in your dreams. In my dream, I clearly remember being in my grandmother's old house in the countryside, where there was a small garden full of lush fruit trees. I unknowingly walked through the mist, heading toward the garden, as if I were trying to relive the carefree days of my childhood when I used to play there.

The mist enveloped me, and the scenery gradually faded. I was startled. As I walked through the misty illusion, I stopped in my tracks when I caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. Beneath the coconut tree, a beloved form appeared, making my heart leap with joy – it was my grandmother. She looked just as she did before, sitting calmly under the tree, knitting a basket with a relaxed and kind demeanor, like a fairy. Her silver hair reminded me of the fairy tales she used to tell. It seemed like she saw me, as she looked up, smiling kindly, like a saint, and opened her arms, as if welcoming me into her embrace. At that moment, I felt nothing but a deep longing to be protected by the grandmother I had missed so much. I ran toward her, throwing myself into her arms, crying tears of happiness. Seeing me so emotional, she gently stroked my hair.

- Don’t cry, my dear. I’m back now.

When I heard these words, my heart swelled with emotion, but I wiped away my tears, looked up at her, and smiled, feeling pure happiness. She was just as I remembered, sitting by the coconut tree, always knitting, wearing a light brown scarf. In her arms, she asked me about my studies, about my parents, then reminded me to study hard, obey my parents, and grow up to be a good person. I replied absentmindedly and nestled deeper into her loving embrace, soaking in the joy. She held me tightly, caressing my hair, kissing my cheeks, forehead, and head, just like when I was a little child. I was flooded with memories of the old days when she used to tell me stories, and I wanted to hear her voice again:

- Grandma, tell me a story, please.

She smiled, as beautiful as a fairy, and her voice rang out in the mystical haze, filling the air. It was the same soothing tone from when I was little, leading me into the sweetest dreams. I had heard the story she told countless times, but I never grew tired of it. In that moment, I even felt a divine and magical power in the pauses of her storytelling. Oh, how I wished I could always hear her tell me stories like this before I fell asleep!

But just as I was lost in the story, her voice pulled me back to the present, and I awoke to the sound of the alarm clock. I realized it was all just a dream. A beautiful dream, for I had been reunited with my grandmother.

She is the one I love the most. This dream makes me miss her more, but it also gives me the strength to live my life with the promise I made to her: to study hard and become someone useful. And I hope I can have many more beautiful dreams like this!

"Mother sings the truths of life, milk nourishes the body, but songs nourish the soul. Grandmother sings to mother, and mother sings to me. I wonder, will my children remember this someday...?" The song "Sitting in sorrow, remembering my mother from days gone by" played on the radio, evoking memories of my grandmother, a beloved family member I haven't seen in a long time.

My childhood was peacefully spent in a tranquil village, surrounded by the love and care of my grandmother. In my memories, my grandmother, now nearing seventy, is at an age often referred to as the twilight of life. I can still vividly recall the last time I saw her, two years ago. She was petite, her back bent from the weight of a lifetime's work. Her face was kind and serene, resembling the gentle figures from fairy tales. Her cheeks bore age spots, and her eyes no longer held the sharpness they once had, often requiring a few blinks to focus. Her lips were frequently pursed, chewing betel. Her hair had turned silvery-white, yet her steps were quicker than one might expect from a seventy-year-old. She still visited the village markets every day.

When I was very young, my parents worked far away, and it was my grandmother who raised me. She prepared my meals and clothes with loving care. Although I could walk to school on my own, she still took me there, regardless of the weather. The familiar village road would often be graced by the sight of my grandmother and me walking side by side. She was born during a time of war, and though she had little formal education, she knew many proverbs and folk sayings. My favorite moments were when she would recite these and explain their meanings. To me, she was like a treasure trove of wisdom.

I remember the warm summer evenings when she would rock me gently in the hammock, telling me fairy tales in her soft, soothing voice. Her voice was deep and warm, like a whisper from times long past. Whenever I fell ill, she would stay up all night, caring for me with devotion.

When I entered second grade, my parents' work stabilized, and they moved me to the city. I left the peaceful countryside and my grandmother to live in the bustling city. The distance between her village and the city, coupled with my parents' busy schedule, meant I could only visit her once a year during the Lunar New Year. During these visits, she would greet me at the village gate, having prepared a feast of delicious local dishes. Each time, she made sure there were treats just for me. In fourth grade, I had an emergency appendectomy and was hospitalized. When my grandmother heard the news, she traveled in the dead of night, causing a stir among my family. Despite their objections, she refused to leave. Throughout my hospital stay, she never left my side, staying up late and waking early to care for me. My hospital roommates admired the love my grandmother showed me.

In the past two years, my parents' schedules have been too hectic, even during the holidays, to bring me back to visit my grandmother. Her health has declined, and she can no longer handle the long journey. There have been times when I missed her so much, I cried. Then, my aunt suggested video calls, and I was able to see my grandmother on the screen. Each time I cried, she would soothe me, promising that once she was better, she would come to visit me in the city. But I know she is becoming weaker with each passing day.

Two years without seeing her, without feeling her embrace or the comfort of her touch, has made me long for those moments more than ever. I silently vowed to convince my parents to take me back to visit my dear grandmother, the person I hold dear and cherish above all else.