A long time ago, back in Taiwan, my father befriended a young man two years his junior. At that time, I don’t thin either of them knew that their friendship would span over 40 years, marriages, three kids, a divorce, many businesses, three countries and two continents. I’m now sitting at this man’s funeral, representing both my dad and my mom, who both couldn’t make it to their friend’s wake.

Over the years, the man I knew as “Uncle Jim” had been, at first, the driving force of their family, striving for business success for his family. In his later years he became the levity of that same family. The ice breaker and the joker to release the tension in the situation.

I grew up with his kids, considering them my cousins for all of my life. And when my parents were going through a heinous divorce, it was my Uncle Jim and his wife Lily that offered me a place to stay, away from the madness of home. Their family will always be family to me, no matter how much time passes between us.

Then on January 3rd, the unthinkable… Uncle Jim was struck by a car. He was in a coma. Then on the 8th, the day of rest, he passed on, 61 years old, leaving a wife and two grown children. sitting here at his wake, surrounded by mourners and the plethora of flowers purchased in his honor, I still cannot believe he’s gone. His face doesn’t look like him; devoid of his laugh lines.

I wish my father was with me, but he couldn’t get a flight until next week. My mother and her husband are out of the country and aren’t scheduled to return until March. So I sit here in the place of one of his oldest friends: my father. But I also sit here for me. To say “thank you for everything”.

Uncle Jim’s time on this earth meant more than he’ll ever know to my family.

R.I.P. uncle Jim.

James Jin-Ching Shao
1950-2012