Obituary

Happy birthday, Mama. While running around and taking care of the apartments and other things these last few months, we have been reminded of the active life we had growing up, of all the ways you were perpetually hustling to achieve your American Dream, of the way you instilled the values of hard work and perseverance in us. We wish you had gotten to enjoy it more when you finally did achieve everything and more than you had ever hoped for.

You came to the United States 46 years ago with only $75 and two suitcases, seeking education when your family told you to just find a job and get married. You had back luck with a man who treated you cruelly, you raised two kids on your own as a single Asian mother in the 90s and early 2000s, worked as a physical therapist for over 30 years to help thousands of people regain mobility, dignity, and some joy in their final days of life. You gave us music, did everything you knew how to give us a better life than you had. From the dirt-floor-dwelling and holes-in-your-clothes poverty in which you were raised, you managed to study, work, scrape, save, and invest in 8 apartment buildings — drive-by-shootings, late night repairs, and all.

You suffered significant and debilitating health issues as a result of not taking enough care of yourself because you were so busy taking care of everything else. You could be very hard at times, and stubborn, but you had a heart of gold and the people who understood you knew this and loved you. We met so many people over the years who would tell me what a good person you were, how kind you were, how you had made their lives better in some way. We also saw it firsthand.

And somehow, through the absurd and herculean amount of things you did and hardship you endured in your life, you always managed to have hope, to savor the small kaleidoscope moments that comprise any given day, and share some silliness with others. You really knew how to squeeze every ounce of joy out of a moment when you wanted to. You also experienced pain at its greatest depths. You lived life in its extremes, in full color and intensity, and with great courage.

More than anything though, you lived your life as you wanted. Freedom was one of these fundamental things you craved and earned in a way that few people do, especially when dealt the cards with which you were.

Today we are celebrating and remembering you in the spirit of how you raised us. A full and varied day with work and play intertwined, and connecting with humans we encounter along the way. We love you and miss you and it has been so strange not to hear your voice on the other end. But we will do everything we can to honor the life you have built.