It just occurred to me that I don't even know the anniversary of my aunt and uncle. I don't think they ever celebrated it, at least not in the eleven years I lived with them. They married in around 1979 and left the country with my cousin, who was at the time less than two years old.
My uncle used to be the co-owner of a company that imported Casio cash registers and calculators [the complicated kind with too many buttons] to sell in Taiwan. It is thanks to Casio cash registers that the couple met. They met when my uncle was selling cash registers to the Christian publishing company that my aunt worked at. Around 1980 or 1981 Taiwan embargoed electronic goods Japan and thus was the end of my uncle's business. They left the country in 1982 with all little baggage and all their money, which was not a lot either. My aunt's uncle, who had promised to take care of them, sent my uncle off to work in a town 40 minutes car ride away the very next day of their arrival. After the first week he changed his mind about driving my uncle to and back from work. His second wife also found a young woman with a baby living in her house to be too troublesome so my aunt who couldn't speak a word of English at the time moved into a tiny condo with the baby.
While my aunt spent all her time memorizing English vocabularies from her dictionary my uncle worked in the far away town. He was once the co-owner of a company but now he had to put away all his ego to wash dishes and treated unreasonably by my great uncle. Aside from the low wages, my uncle often had to work overtime with no pay at my great uncle's restaurant. If he wanted to visit his family he had to work home or beg a co-worker to give him a ride. One snowy winter night, my uncle got a call from my aunt telling him that their baby was sick and he walked six hours in the snow to get home.
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Beginning
Rewind back.
Now begins the story of my uncle.
My uncle was born on November 18, 1956. He was the first son to a poor couple in Taiwan but his parents favored their younger son. I never believed in Chinese horoscopes since I grew up in the US but the description of monkeys according to the zodiac really does have some resemblance with my uncle. He was curious and clever. He could accomplish any given task and enjoyed challenging work. We used to spend summer afternoons at the restaurant working on hard sudoku puzzles when business was slow.
I wish I had pictures to show; My uncle looked like a movie star when he was young. While most Chinese men were still fairy short in the 60's and 70's, he was over six feet tall and he was the body guard of the president of Taiwan when he was serving the military! Girls begged to be his girlfriend and offered to wash his stinky socks for him. He can't even remember how many girlfriends he's had. My uncle told me that he used to have two or three dates each evening and was always calling the girls by the wrong names.
You might think he was player but he wasn't. My uncle just wanted to make sure he met the right girl. He stopped dating all women after meeting my aunt. On their first date they watched Jaws (1975) at the movie theater. When the movie was over he pulled a hair brush and told my aunt to stand still as he brushed her bangs for her.
Now begins the story of my uncle.
My uncle was born on November 18, 1956. He was the first son to a poor couple in Taiwan but his parents favored their younger son. I never believed in Chinese horoscopes since I grew up in the US but the description of monkeys according to the zodiac really does have some resemblance with my uncle. He was curious and clever. He could accomplish any given task and enjoyed challenging work. We used to spend summer afternoons at the restaurant working on hard sudoku puzzles when business was slow.
I wish I had pictures to show; My uncle looked like a movie star when he was young. While most Chinese men were still fairy short in the 60's and 70's, he was over six feet tall and he was the body guard of the president of Taiwan when he was serving the military! Girls begged to be his girlfriend and offered to wash his stinky socks for him. He can't even remember how many girlfriends he's had. My uncle told me that he used to have two or three dates each evening and was always calling the girls by the wrong names.
You might think he was player but he wasn't. My uncle just wanted to make sure he met the right girl. He stopped dating all women after meeting my aunt. On their first date they watched Jaws (1975) at the movie theater. When the movie was over he pulled a hair brush and told my aunt to stand still as he brushed her bangs for her.
The Funeral
I had received the news of my dear uncle's death on February 21, a Sunday but his death was actually on the 20th because of the time difference between Virginia and Taiwan. My mother and I flew to the US on the 25th or 26th, the night before his cremation. At that time we weren't even sure if we would be able to cremate him because doctors pushed around the responsibility of signing my uncle's death certificate. Had he died at home, in the ambulance or at the hospital? Did it matter? It made no difference to me because all I knew was that the person I called "Daddy" wouldn't be able to walk me down the red carpet if I ever got married.
Early next morning the worker from the cremation center called us with "good news", his death certificate was signed. When I left the US in 2008, I never thought the next time I saw my uncle he'd be in a casket. He passed away just a month before he and my aunt were coming to visit me in Taiwan. The world crumbled the moment I walked into the room. There he laid at the very end of the room. Why in the world was he sleeping in a coffin?! I wanted to wake him up! None of this had seemed true. How could my uncle be dead? I just talked to him on the phone less than two weeks ago to wish him a happy Chinese New Year. He had joked about me being closer to God because my family and I had moved to the fifteenth floor of an apartment. This must be a joke. He couldn't be gone. How was the planet supposed to keep moving around the sun with this man dead?! NO! I wouldn't accept it, he was NOT dead.
I argued with myself silently until my uncle's best friend pulled out the video camera to record the family sharing the last moments with their beloved husband, father, uncle, grandpa or brother-in-law. Though I loved him just as much as his son and wife, I felt that I didn't deserve to touch the body in the casket since I was the adopted daughter. But God heard my cries and I was given the chance to touch his hand. It was ice cold. I felt like a stone dropped into my stomach, was he really truly gone? I turned and looked at my baby nephew. He was in the secure arms of his daddy but he would never be able to enjoy the arms of his grandpa anymore.
Friends began coming, most of them former customers of the restaurant. My uncle had sold the restaurant less than a year ago. I sat in my seat, trying to sort out my thoughts and using up tissues. I prayed so many times before I touched the icy hand. After touching the icy hand I still prayed for a miracle. I had read so much about people coming back to life at their funerals. He must wake up before the cremation. I imagined what I would do if he just opened his eyes and climbed out of the coffin. I would shut my eyes to pray, open them to check for progress, shut my eyes again, then open them once more. I did that for two hours. Every time my aunt kissed his body, I thought I saw him move but turns out it was just because she hugged him too hard. My aunt kept kissing him as if she thought Sleeping Beauty was not just a fairy tale.
I wanted to slap Rachel when she walked in.
"The cremation is ready, so let me know when you are ready."
I wanted to jump from my seat and yell at him. I wanted to yell into his ears, "WAKE UP!"
They closed the casket and I could hear the shatter of my aunt's heart. I could feel my own. We pushed the casket into the cremation room everyone who had stopped crying earlier started crying again. Everything was blurry and in slow motion as the workers from the cremation center lifted the casket and pushed it into the cremation machine. They shut the door and what kind of a unthoughtful person Rachel was to ask my cousin/ brother to START the machine. He was reluctant but he pushed the button. At the first roar of the fire my aunt's feet turned into spaghetti as she fell the arms of three people behind her. I thought she would faint when we put her into the armchair but she kept crying and yelling.
"How could you leave me? How could you? What am I to do without you?" She kept saying to the cremation machine, her voice barely a whisper.
I never would have survived and be able to live after my uncle's death had God not helped me.
Early next morning the worker from the cremation center called us with "good news", his death certificate was signed. When I left the US in 2008, I never thought the next time I saw my uncle he'd be in a casket. He passed away just a month before he and my aunt were coming to visit me in Taiwan. The world crumbled the moment I walked into the room. There he laid at the very end of the room. Why in the world was he sleeping in a coffin?! I wanted to wake him up! None of this had seemed true. How could my uncle be dead? I just talked to him on the phone less than two weeks ago to wish him a happy Chinese New Year. He had joked about me being closer to God because my family and I had moved to the fifteenth floor of an apartment. This must be a joke. He couldn't be gone. How was the planet supposed to keep moving around the sun with this man dead?! NO! I wouldn't accept it, he was NOT dead.
I argued with myself silently until my uncle's best friend pulled out the video camera to record the family sharing the last moments with their beloved husband, father, uncle, grandpa or brother-in-law. Though I loved him just as much as his son and wife, I felt that I didn't deserve to touch the body in the casket since I was the adopted daughter. But God heard my cries and I was given the chance to touch his hand. It was ice cold. I felt like a stone dropped into my stomach, was he really truly gone? I turned and looked at my baby nephew. He was in the secure arms of his daddy but he would never be able to enjoy the arms of his grandpa anymore.
Friends began coming, most of them former customers of the restaurant. My uncle had sold the restaurant less than a year ago. I sat in my seat, trying to sort out my thoughts and using up tissues. I prayed so many times before I touched the icy hand. After touching the icy hand I still prayed for a miracle. I had read so much about people coming back to life at their funerals. He must wake up before the cremation. I imagined what I would do if he just opened his eyes and climbed out of the coffin. I would shut my eyes to pray, open them to check for progress, shut my eyes again, then open them once more. I did that for two hours. Every time my aunt kissed his body, I thought I saw him move but turns out it was just because she hugged him too hard. My aunt kept kissing him as if she thought Sleeping Beauty was not just a fairy tale.
I wanted to slap Rachel when she walked in.
"The cremation is ready, so let me know when you are ready."
I wanted to jump from my seat and yell at him. I wanted to yell into his ears, "WAKE UP!"
They closed the casket and I could hear the shatter of my aunt's heart. I could feel my own. We pushed the casket into the cremation room everyone who had stopped crying earlier started crying again. Everything was blurry and in slow motion as the workers from the cremation center lifted the casket and pushed it into the cremation machine. They shut the door and what kind of a unthoughtful person Rachel was to ask my cousin/ brother to START the machine. He was reluctant but he pushed the button. At the first roar of the fire my aunt's feet turned into spaghetti as she fell the arms of three people behind her. I thought she would faint when we put her into the armchair but she kept crying and yelling.
"How could you leave me? How could you? What am I to do without you?" She kept saying to the cremation machine, her voice barely a whisper.
I never would have survived and be able to live after my uncle's death had God not helped me.
The Phone Call On Sunday
On this day, three months ago, we discussed life after death at our Sunday meeting. When my brother asked why devil worship was wrong, I told him his favorite 24 year old singer was going to hell for not believing in God. Then I get a call within two hours with the news of my uncle's death. The only thing that crossed my mind at the time was that he didn't believe in God while he was alive.
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