When Ngo Thi Lang gently accepted the restored portrait of her son on July 15, she held it close to her face and gazed silently for several moments.

The 105-year-old, who has been awarded the honorary title Vietnamese Heroic Mother for losing family members in wartime, slowly traced the young man's face with her hand.

"There you are, Tho..." she whispered. Tears rolled down the face of a woman who has lived for more than a century, separated from the son who left home at 17 and never returned.

For the first time in more than 60 years, she finally had a photograph to place on his family altar.

A family altar without a photograph

Since Huynh Quang Tho sacrificed during the war, his family had never possessed a single photograph of him.

On the family altar stood only the official certificate recognizing him as a fallen soldier. There was no portrait and no personal keepsakes. Whenever she missed him, Lang could only speak his name from memory.

The restored portrait was presented by the Da Nang Department of Home Affairs ahead of Vietnam's annual War Invalids and Martyrs Day on July 27.

The image was recreated by Duong Cao Thanh, a volunteer from northern Vietnam who has spent years digitally restoring portraits of fallen soldiers for their families.

Thanh also reconstructed the portrait of Lang's husband, Huynh Kinh Nhi, who was likewise killed during wartime.

Lang's younger son, Huynh Quang Thuyen, himself a war veteran with service-related injuries, said the family had waited decades for such a photograph.

"Now our mother can finally see her son's face every day," he said. "This portrait means more to us than words can express. I was afraid of losing my son - but if I kept him home, we would lose our country," he said.

Lang's life spans two wars and immeasurable personal loss.

She lost both her husband and her eldest son in Vietnam's struggles for independence and reunification, while another son returned from the war seriously wounded.

Her husband, Huynh Kinh Nhi, was born in 1918. During the First Indochina War, the family left their hometown of Hoi An for what is now Quang Nam Province, where they continued supporting the resistance.

Their modest home became a safe house for revolutionary cadres, with a hidden bunker beneath the kitchen. Using her work as a trader as cover, Lang secretly transported food and medicine to resistance forces. She was repeatedly suspected and beaten by French colonial authorities but never revealed any information. Nhi was killed in 1950.

Left to raise three children alone, Lang continued both farming and supporting the revolutionary movement.

Her eldest son, Huynh Quang Tho, was born in 1946.

She remembers him as a gentle young man with fair skin and bright, round eyes who helped her in the rice fields while attending school.

At about 17 years old, while studying in secondary school, he secretly volunteered to join the military without telling his mother.

She learned of his decision only after his unit informed the family.

"I was terrified of losing my son," she recalled. "But if I kept him home, we would lose our country. Once he had made up his mind, I couldn't stop him."

After he enlisted, news from him became increasingly rare.

She imagined the day peace would come - when he would return home, sit around the family dinner table again, marry, and give her grandchildren.

That reunion never came.

In 1965, Huynh Quang Tho sacrificed in battle in what is now Quang Nam Province. He was only 19 years old.

"It was wartime. There was no way to find him," Lang said through tears. "When I heard he had died, I was devastated. But I still had to continue my work."

Still searching after six decades

After the war ended, her husband's remains were eventually recovered and reburied in the family's hometown. Her son's remains have never been found.

For years, Huynh Quang Thuyen and other relatives have followed every lead. They believe Tho may have been buried at Tam Nghia Martyrs' Cemetery, where many unidentified soldiers rest.

But without photographs, personal belongings or complete military records, the family has never been able to confirm which grave  - if any - belongs to him.

Whenever Lang visits the cemetery, she slowly walks among the rows of graves. At every unidentified tomb, she lights incense and softly calls her son's name.

"My mother stops at every unidentified grave and prays for my brother," Thuyen said. "She hopes one of them is him. Before long, she begins to cry."

Unable to locate his burial place, the family built a cenotaph - an empty symbolic grave - in their hometown so they would have somewhere to honor him.

Because the family does not know the exact date of his death, they observe his memorial on July 27, Vietnam's annual day of remembrance for fallen soldiers.

One final wish

In 2024, Lang provided a DNA sample that authorities hope can eventually be matched with unidentified wartime remains.

Her family says their hopes have grown with Vietnam's nationwide 500-Day Campaign, an initiative to locate, recover, and identify missing soldiers through historical research and DNA analysis.

"Our greatest hope is that the DNA comparison will succeed while our mother is still alive," Thuyen said. "Her final wish is simple - to bring my brother home to Hoi An so he can rest beside our father. Only then will she truly find peace."

Despite being 105 years old, Lang remains remarkably active. She wakes early every morning, exercises, enjoys a cup of coffee, and still manages most of her daily routines independently. She says she wants to stay healthy for one reason alone: to wait for news of her son.

Today she finds comfort in being surrounded by her children, grandchildren, neighbors, and the care she receives from local authorities.

After more than six decades, Huynh Quang Tho's family altar finally bears his portrait.

Now, whenever she misses him, Lang has a face she can look at and gently touch.

But even at 105, she continues to wait for the day someone will tell her that her son's remains have finally been found - so he can come home and rest beside his father, replacing the empty grave that has carried her family's prayers for more than half a century.

Ha Nam