Below the divider is the speech I gave at my mom's funeral. The bullet points were ideas that I shared during the speech without having time to fully form sentences. I hope I was able to express how wonderful of a person she was. My parents were married for 30 years and on the verge of retirement together.
In her final year, I really felt the benefits of living somewhat close to family. I made weekly visits and called whenever possible. I feel lucky to have spent so much time with mom and feel lucky to be her son. Life didn't seem idyllic growing up, but looking at my childhood through an adult lens really highlights how great my mom and dad were to us as kids.
The visitation and funeral were a good way to end a trying chapter. Hearing quirky stories about mom and how she treated friends like family really warmed my heart.
Grief is an emotion that comes and goes. The main thing that keeps me happy is thinking about the lives she would want us to lead.
This is the speech I was never ready to write...
My name is Andrew. Leslie is my sister. Jun-Liang is my father. And Shu-Fang (Katy) is my mother.
On Thursday, November 22nd 2018, Shu-Fang Lin passed away in her sleep after spending the day with her husband, son, and daughter. Her brother and sister also visited from far away in her final week. I’ll always remember the day as we drove to the hospital at 3 in the morning with a full moon overlooking us. It was the coldest Thanksgiving day I could ever remember. I’ll never forget the way the sun shined while the world froze.
Shu-Fang fell ill in the summer of 2017 with a diagnosis of stage 4 lung cancer. How could this happen to someone who had never smoked? Lung cancer kills more people per year than the next three top cancers combined: colon, breast, and pancreatic. Yet its research funding lags behind the others. I spent a lot of time over the last year learning about innovations in the field, but ultimately learned that early detection is the best way to improve the statistics.
The diagnosis was devastating. Where we counted years, we suddenly counted months. Monthly trips to visit Mom and Dad suddenly became weekly. Time is like air; it passes subconsciously. You hardly realize it’s there until you’re deprived of it.
My mom and dad did what they always do. They stood up in the face of adversity together. Mom retired from work to focus on regaining her health. Dad took time off from work to drive mom to doctor’s appointments. Over the next few months the tumors shrank and mom made improvements. She walked our dog, Momo farther and farther around the neighborhood. I would hear her sing off tune in another room and it made me so happy.
Progress took a turn in May. Mom had deep discomforts in her back and the treatment had stopped working. We changed to chemotherapy and for the first few sessions, it provided some relief. However, mom’s treatments got more and more painful. Phone calls to mom used to get picked up immediately, but started going to voicemail more often. Eventually, the cancer metastasized to her liver, kidney, and colon.
On Monday we rushed her to the hospital. Things seemed to stabilize there. We all spent Tuesday and Wednesday together, talking about our pasts, talking about our futures, smiling silently at each other while reflecting on this wonderful gift we had all been given. We never lost hope.
My mom’s life was shorter than we all expected. She was bold, lively, and compassionate. She was the first one to make a stranger a friend, and the first one on the dance floor.
Her boldness