My uncle passed away yesterday. I was in class last night and so I found out through my voice mail. That's not the way you're supposed to tell someone that a relative is dead. But I'm over that--I suppose it was the most efficient thing to do and that's just how my dad is.

I still can't figure out whether it's "hit me" yet or not. I called a friend after I had found out (as she had just sent me a text message) and I told her about my uncle. All the memories I had were happy ones and I couldn't help but chuckle at my recollections. (Incidentally, they were the exact same ones that my brother brought up when we chatted last night.) Perhaps that's the way it should be. While there is much finality in death, there really isn't a whole heck of a lot that I can do about it. I might as well remember him at his best, revel in fond memories, ruminate on his nuggets of wisdom.

My uncle was such a character. He was a strong and determined man, building his successful business by himself. He was the only person to be president of the Kowloon chapter of the Lions Club two years consecutively. He knew a good life--and he knew he had put himself there. He was a smart and educated man. I remember telling him once in high school that I was reading "A Midsummer Night's Dream" for English Literature class. He promptly started spouting snippets of soliloquies from the play and bits and pieces of Shakespeare sonnets. I know he did this just to impress me, but that he did.

There are so many fond memories of him as well. His eyes always lit up when there was talk of 天九, our family's favourite game. He never let anyone forget that he was good at it. All night long he would always say by how much he was winning. When I won, it was pure luck; when he won, it surely was skill. There was also a recent time he took my brother, his girlfriend, and me to one of the most luxuriant hotels in Hong Kong for afternoon tea. He ordered a HK$700+ afternoon tea package for us to enjoy. I remember the price caught me by surprise; to him, it was no expense too great for his nephews. There are so many great memories.

All silliness aside, my uncle could be quite inspirational--more so by deed than by dictum. He was living proof that knowing what you want is the first step to getting it and that hard work could indeed pay off. He held a strong work hard, play hard ethos, which meant he lived his life as fully as he knew how. He often had a commanding composure in public, well bastioned by his self-confidence. He demonstrated the power and importance of self-assuredness. These were lessons from which everyone can benefit.

I also remember a time when I was still a tourist in Hong Kong. My uncle, his good friend, my cousins, and I went for a ride through the rich parts of Hong Kong to look at scenery. He wanted to visit Red Hill Peninsula (紅山半島) and so we pulled up to the gate. My uncle's friend, the driver, opened his window and my uncle started to speak from the passenger seat. He asked in English if we could go in to take a look. Of the five people in the car, his English was by far the oddest. Having grown up in Hong Kong, he had a strong Chinese accent. However, having completed graduate studies at the University of Memphis (and still having done much business with companies in the South), he had acquired a slight southern twang in his speech. I remember scrunching down in my seat in a sheepish attempt to hide myself. I was embarrassed by and ashamed of him then, I guess. But I know much better now. My uncle was by no means perfect, but he has offered me so many excellent reasons to be proud of him.