My godfather just died.

Well, Nacho4Sara had some bad news last week, this week it’s my turn. My mother just called me and told me he went into the hospital with an infection, they put in a catheter and he went into cardiac arrest. I feel completely and totally numb. Some little voice inside keeps asking, “Why?” and another answers, “It was his time.” I keep bursting into tears, but they only last a few seconds.

Yuan Tai escaped communist China when he was 10 years old with his parents. They moved to New York, and his father amassed quite a lot of money in the Chinese antique trade. His father turned some of this money into a foundation for Chinese medical students, which is how I am going to college, though I am not Chinese nor a medical student. Yuan bought me this computer. He paid my rent. He and my godmother never had any kids, my sisters and I were like theirs. My mother set he and his wife, who was my mom’s college roommate, up together 30 years ago.

I can’t sleep, and I can’t sit still. So I am posting this. You have no idea how greatful I am for the last Dopefest. If it had been called off, or had not taken off the way it had, I might have posponed my trip due to my illness that week. If I had done that, I would not have seen Yuan. And if that had happened, I would never have forgiven myself. As it is, I feel like a beast because my youngest sister, who hadn’t seen Yuan in years, begged to come. Andygirl and Soulsling got to meet him, just for a second, and you guys were the only friends I have as an adult who ever got to meet him. There had always been trips with friends who ended up bailing. I think that hurts the most, that no one I love outside my family ever got to experiance what a wise, funny, smart man he was. You all would love him, he was the king of intellectual conversation. He would sometimes take an opposite position than the one you had, and argue it passionately, not because he believed it, but because it was good for the conversation. He called this being “the contrary.” Last fall, he took me on a walking tour of Chinatown and Little Italy, where he gave me his “goomba impression.” You haven’t lived until a six foot Chinese man has treated you to a mafisto impression while sipping a cappaccino in Little Italy. That day we had a debate on technology. He argued that his ancestors were a whole lot happier being farmers in China and not giving a shit about money or career. I argued that without technology, he would never had come to New York, and I would never have met him, and we never would have had that conversation. I think that’s the one argument I ever won.

I love my parents so much, but in a way, that’s because I have to. And they have to love me. It’s genetics. But Yuan chose to love me because he had, in his words, known me since I was inside my mom’s belly. Since before I was me. And for some reason, he continued to love us, and take care of us. My parents are hippies, they have never had any money. He didn’t blink an eye at paying my rent so I could go to school. He just did it, because he loved me, and you take care of people you love.

Here is an email he sent me back in August. I printed it out and put it on my bulletin board in my living room next to a picture of him to remind me why I am working so hard. I think it sums him up pretty well. It’s verbadim, all grammatical errors are a combination of him being Chinese, and him simply not caring about a little thing like grammer.

“Dear bubbling Brooke of the Yada Yada fame,
Its great to hear you’re excited about school, remember, don’t cram everything in at once, in fact, I believe I’ve learned most of what I know after school – things like what is behind a wall, what it is like living with a lady Jane [my godmother], or what the IRS is about, or that there are people in the Steppes like Tajiks or Uzbeks, or the Mexico has and had a great civilization, its city Tenochitilan was the biggest in the world, or that their calculation of Venus was very accurate until the last century, or the best astronomical observeratory was in Tashkent until the last century, but these are just facts, there is a lot more. So just flow mit dem Tao, and don’t bother yourself too too much TOO [I referred to myself in email as TOO: The Other One. My elder sister was The First One, and my little sister was The Little One. Yuan was The One and Only Yuan,]
Here endith old people talk, go back to youth and excitement, and the need to swallow the whole works, just take whiskey or Pepto, here she comes, eehaa
TOOY”

I might not be posting much, or checking my email to often. We don’t know when any of the services will be, I’m finding out tomorrow. Probably later this week. Anyway, Wonko, thank you for planning that Dopefest, I am eternally greatful. Andy and Soul, I hope you were able to see in the 5 minutes you knew him what a truely astounding human being he was.

I’m flowing mit dem Tao, Yuan-O. I just wish I had you as a guide.

We are here for you, girl. Anything we can do? Hugs? Prayers?

Swiddles, the love you have for this man is very clear in your post. It made me teary just reading it. It is a wonderful thing to have someone this special in your life and you will always have him in your heart.

I know there is no comfort I can offer you right now but know that through your words, we can get a very tiny glimpse of the greatest that is your godfather. He sounds like he was a wonderful man and he definitely had amazing taste in choosing to love you like his own.

You know that everyone is here for you if you need anything at all–shoulders, tissues, listening ears, corny jokes, etc.

I wish you all the strength in the world to be able to face the coming days and thank you for sharing a very small bit of an obviously very great man with us.

My metaphors suck. But I remember thinking that meeting him for five minutes was kind of like seeing one wave in the ocean. One glimpse that doesn’t say so much, but you can tell it’s part of a large, magnificent force.

I remember he laughed when we told about your car breaking.

I’m sorry, Brooke. <hugs> Best of strength and peace to you. Your love bears witness to how great he was.

{b]Swiddles**,

Please know that you were blessed.

I am weeping too much right now to post correctly.

My love to you and your wonderful Godfather.

I will now change my sig line for you.

A very touching, heartfelt, eulogy.
Good luck.

:frowning:

But :slight_smile: that you realize what a wonderful thing you had in this man…

Swiddles, I’m always amazed that, in their greatest times of grief, Dopers are able to write such eloquent and heartfelt tributes to their departed loved ones. I feel blessed just having read briefly about your godfather – he sounds like one of those people whose existence makes the world an infinitely better place. Thank you for sharing him with us – and thank you for reminding me that I need to call my own goddad and tell him that I love him.
Sending good thoughts,
Jessica

Oh Swiddles honey, I’m so sorry…

{{{{{{{{{{Swiddles}}}}}}}}}

After reading your transcript of his email to you, I can see what a delight he was! His personality shines through so strong…
As I’ve said before, I truly believe a person is never truly gone as long as he is held in the hearts and minds of those who loved him. I think of my grandfather that way.
The sting of his passing will fade with time, and although will never be truly gone, you will (I hope) in time be able to more fully rejoice in having been a part of his life, and he a part of yours.

Hope that helps; my prayers are with you, hon.

Larry

{{{{{{Swiddles}}}}}}

Remember that this wonderful person lives on through you. I certainly will.

{{{{{{Swiddles & family}}}}}}

My thoughts are with you.

I’m so sorry, Swiddles.
{{{Swiddles}}}
I’m glad he was here. I’m glad you had him in your life. I wish he could have stayed longer.

I’m so sorry. Thank you for posting about him. He sounds like he was a pretty amazing guy.

:frowning:

Death is awful. It truly is. I was going to share a post that I saved from another board when my step-mom died last summer, but I can’t access it anymore.

In that reply, someone told me that it is not only your right, but your duty to “shake your fist at the heavens” for removing a kindred spirit from your life without even a goodbye. You’ll recieve the sympathy of a hundreds of others over the course of the next few days–sorrow you can soak up and use in the future as a reminder to just how many people your godfather has touched.

I was thinking of my step-mom a lot today, so maybe that was a sign or something that I should at least share my thoughts.

i’m so sorry, swimming riddles. what a fantastic godfather. thank you for sharing him with us.

I am so, so sorry, Brooke. I don’t suppose that I know how you are feeling, but I do know that it sucks. And though I’m blatantly plagiarizing what other posters told me last week, the very best thing you can do is to continue to live your life honoring what an incredible man he was, through your words, deeds and actions. He sounds like an awesome man, and quite a character as well.

Trying to deal with everything that happened last week, I re-read “The Little Prince,” one of my favorite books. Here are the lines that I keep coming back to, that are helping me to heal a little each day:

I don’t know if there are ever words to comfort you at times like these, but there are always words to make you feel less alone. I’m here for you. We’re all here for you. Grieve all you must, and try to remember that the empty space you’re feeling right now can always be filled with the love and kindness of the person you lost.

Thank you, Sara. That was beautiful. I am writing it down after I post this.

He would hate me to mourn him, so I’m trying not to do that so much as to remember every little thing about him. Like how he drove in the city. He would be stopped at a stoplight, discussing philosophy with me, and would get so engrossed, he’d forget to drive. Cars would be honking, flipping us the bird, and he was oblivious. He was discussing the mysteries of life, and that was more important.

I wish I had learned more from him. He knew something I think most of us don’t. I don’t know what that is, but it allowed him to not care what the world thought of him. It allowed him to not only march to a different drummer, but to construct his own drum. He was so full of joy, and so esoteric at the same time.

The quote that keeps circulating my head is from Hamlet :

Thank you to everyone who posted. You don’t know what it means to me.

That’s bad news, SwimmingRiddles. Forgive me if I don’t address you as Swiddles, or by your apparent IRL name, as we’ve never been familiar before. I have read many of your posts and I appreciate what a lynchpin in your life your godfather was.

What readjustments life throws at us! I’ve the feeling you have a perspective that will get you by, but still, it’s a heartache.

Just know that one more Doper (imagines he) understands the turmoil with which you deal.

Luck, dear.

Swiddles I am sorry . . . I am sorry that I didn’t get a chance to see a great man like this when I had the chance. {{{{{{{{{{{SwimmingRiddles}}}}}}}}}}}}}
Tripler
::snaps to and salutes::

Swids, I am very sorry at your loss. He sounds like a fascinating person.

{{{{{Swiddles}}}}}

And, for the newbie who also has me feeling sad for her,

{{{{{Ivy Kitti}}}}}