Epilogue/Joy Wu, February 2021
Sometime after Dad moved back to Taiwan in 2010, he told me he was going to pen an autobiography. My immediate, knee-jerk, typical daughter reply was, "Why? Who cares?" Yes, this sounds quite disrespectful. Dad and I are similar in our manner of communication. We are both frank and to the point, often unaware of the impact of our frankness, until too late. I went on to explain to him my comment, hoping he had not been offended. "Dad what is so very special about your life that others will want to read about it? I mean, you've shared so many stories with so many friends and family members for all these years. Between all of us, we know about your childhood struggles, your many round-trip travels to and from Taiwan, your much-admired perseverance in pursing mom, your early years in America, etc." He patiently waited for me to stop talking.
He replied, "I want to put it ALL in writing for your daughters so they will always know about their Gong Gong and Pau Pau and the family history."
So, he proceeds to write this autobiography, completely in Chinese, which neither I nor my daughters can read! Hmmmm...
Dad completed the book in 2013 and then passed away a year later in Taiwan on December 21, 2014. He spent that last 5-6 months of his life lying in a hospital bed, his health slowly but surely deteriorating. I spent much of 2014 in Taiwan by his side. His three granddaughters each flew to Taiwan and spent what was possibly their last time, with him. He joked and laughed with them as best as he could. He was so proud of them. Till the end, his faith in God never waned and we prayed every day before I left his hospital room for the night. He was at peace.
In retrospect, his spending copious hours writing this book was a good thing. It kept him happily busy for many years. I can see him eagerly assembling all his papers, and he kept lots of records, love letters, pictures, etc. Once assembled in an orderly fashion I see him happily recalling events, even sad events, and writing his thoughts, then revising the manuscript, and finally doing research on self-publication. Dad was a meticulous and organized man when it came to projects. He always laid a solid foundation before beginning any project, using detailed research, making sure he had all the tools ready at hand. He always had a plan A and plan B and then some. When it was finally published, he bought many copies and sent them to all his friends, all over the world, even those who could not read a word of Chinese.
Although at the time, I quietly chuckled at dad's intensity, his sheer determination to complete this autobiography, I'm so very grateful that he made the herculean effort to see it to completion. Of course, dad never left things half done or done poorly. I can hear him now, "If you are going to do something, do it well and to completion! Don't be lazy!" Dad was never lazy, and once he decided on something, that was it.
His recollections of my life gave me some perspective on what he thought was going on in my head. Of course, parents never really know what's going on in their child's head and they don't really have the full picture of any situation. I regret that so much of my adult life, so many events and decisions, distressed both my parents. But I believe they would both be happy to know, I survived all those experiences and each one molded me into the person I am today and the mother I wanted to be for my own daughters. I'm grateful that my parents instilled in me so many "old fashion character traits", even as I once promised myself, as many children do, to "never turn out like my parents!"
Finally, in closing, I love you dad.
