Memorial Service - Shin's last word

The overall service consisted of 1) the paddle salute and song from her dragon boat team, 2) The Eulogy from Tony, 3) Eulogy by Alicia, 3) A poem read by Ella Brady, Ciara Brady and Josie Raza, 4) a word for thanks from Ms Kwek, found of the Breast Cancer Foundation in Singapore, 5) Michelle reading her final letter to Shin and reading Shin's letter to everyone, 6) the photo slideshow, 7) the balloon release.

Below is the letter from Shin to everyone:

My friend Michelle asked me to write a letter that she can read aloud to friends and family at my memorial service. She’s full of good ideas, my Shelly.

As you know, I like telling people what I’m thinking and feeling, and I have so many things to say to all of you individually. I wanted to write each of you a letter. I especially wanted to write letters to your children telling them things about their mom or dad that they may never hear from anyone else. I want your children to know what impact you’ve had on my life and what part you played in restoring my faith in humanity.

But I’ve run out of time, so I’ll have to say as much as I can to all of you in this letter.

I know it’s sad that I’m gone. I’m sad about the things I won’t be able to do for Josie and Toby as they grow up. I’m sad about the tough days ahead for Tony. What’s he going to do when Toby throws a tantrum, demanding to see me? How will he feel when Josie cries for me in the middle of the night after waking from a bad dream?

I’m sad about the pain my illness and death have caused my friends and family. Losing people you care about and the thought of never, ever seeing them again, or hugging them, or hearing them laugh is heart-breaking. Trust me, I know. You’re only losing ONE of me. I’m losing ALL of you.

But here’s something even more sad – what if we had never met, never gotten to know each other, never laughed together or cried together or learned from each other? Sure, we’d have saved ourselves some heartache, but we’d have lost a great deal more than that.

I’ve learned so much about you all these past few years – your selflessness, compassion, strength of heart, generosity, vulnerability, innocence, resourcefulness, humility, forgiveness, loyalty, faith, and so much more. Each of you, in your own way, has shown me something about human nature and the human spirit that fifty more years of life might not have shown me.

And many of you have told me that I’ve taught you a thing or two. You’ve said I’ve been an inspiration, a role model, a source of strength, even a gadfly. Just hearing these great compliments from you made me want to live up to them and deserve them. That’s what kept me going during some of my darkest moments. You had put so much faith in me, I just couldn’t let you down. You saved me.

It’s a shame that it took terminal illness and death to teach us all these lessons, but I think my death was worth it. I know that sounds terrible, but I wouldn’t trade in these past two years for a hundred more years of living an ordinary life, not knowing what amazing creatures we humans are capable of being.

That sounds selfish. I have two young children who will grow up without their mother. But the tears I can’t wipe away, the birthday parties I can’t throw for them, the motherly advice I can’t give them are nothing compared to the legacy you’ve all helped me to leave behind for them.

I know that Josie and Toby will grow up surrounded by my friends and family who will be surrogate mothers to them and provide them with the love and security that I won’t be around to give them. I’m not too worried. I feel confident that I’m leaving them in good hands and they’ll grow up to be happy, kind, responsible people.

But as they grow up, they’ll hear stories about the last few years of their mother’s life. The life lessons they’ll learn from what all of you here today have done for their mother, will be lessons they might never have learned otherwise. I think that’s worth any pain we may have suffered. Please think of that when you start to feel sad about my death.

I have one last request to make of you: Don’t forget what we’ve learned from each other. I think we’ve all surprised ourselves these past few years with inner strength and compassion that we didn’t even know we were capable of.

Time and the business of everyday living can make us forget a lot of important things – we let the mundane tasks of daily life get in the way of even thinking about the people we love, especially those who are gone or live far away, but sadly, even those who live in the same house with us.

Josie has told me she’s afraid that she’ll forget me someday – forget what I looked like, forget to think about me, and someday stop loving me. I have the same response for you that I had for her:

You may forget me someday. That’s just normal brain function. But you should never feel bad about it, because as long as you remember the things that were important to me, you won’t ever really forget me.

Thank you for teaching me so much, caring about me so much, and showing me and my family that I had a life worth living. Thank you for showing me what a lifetime of religion couldn’t – that there is a God, God is within each of us.

Love, Shin.