The link below is for the video of the Eulogy that Alicia read at Shin's memorial service. The video misses actually misses the first paragraph of Alicia's comments. See the written text in the post from a few days ago for the her full comments.
http://www.vimeo.com/3119315
Tony
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Memorial - Michelle's Letter to Shin
Attached is a link to the video of Michelle's letter to Shin. Thanks again Lynn & James, its beautiful and I treasure what you've done (http://lianain.blogspot.com/).
Tony
http://www.vimeo.com/3091574
Tony
http://www.vimeo.com/3091574
Children and Loss
I've found that a lot of the advice from books on how to help children deal with loss is very age specific. Shin's blog has been about sharing, and thus I did want to share what our approach has been in helping the children, but ultimately I imagine any insights are only helpful to other families who happen to have similarly aged children as Josie (almost 6), and Toby (3).
After reading various books I think some of the key things we took to heart were 1) children hold a surprisingly strong grudge over "white lies" told to them, 2) its not their fault, its not their fault, its not their fault - its surprising how kids can take blame on themselves, 3) at young ages, its really all about them - who will take care of them, how will things change ...etc, 4) they won't really know how to feel and act and will take their cues from us.
Other things which we tried to prepare for were 1) overcoming being alone with the loss, 2) avoiding being picked on for being different, 3) answering other questions - are they orphans?, what happens if something happens to me?, will i re-marry?, what happens to the body? ...4) discipline has to be kept up as kids are likely to feel more insecure if patterns are changed.
So from the beginning, we been pretty straight with the kids about Shin's cancer. When Josie was only 2, Shin explained she had cancer, what it was, that it was not something you can "catch", that there are treatments that can make her better but that it may make her hair fall out and may make her tired and feel sick, and importantly that she could die. As it turned out Shin had surprisingly few side effects to the chemo, but she did loose her hair. Shin didn't like the feel of a wig and Shin was always the "accept (or not) me as I am" type of person. We noticed that hair issue seemed fairly big for Josie who was then about 3. Other kids in Josie's kindergarden class would stop and stare at Shin. Shin would simply explain that she is taking a special type of medicine that makes her hair fall out (needing to emphasize its a very special type of medicine - no other medicine will do that). Shin was outside Josie's class once waiting to pick her up while the kids were working on an art project. Shin heard Josie stand up and announce to the class the her mommy does not have any hair. It was not really a big deal, but it did signal that it was something she was dwelling on and seemed to be worried about others reactions to it.
As Shin's condition got worse with the recurrence and the spread to lungs, liver, and brain, we debated how much to tell the children. We decided that we didn't need to change what we had already been saying. That is that Shin still has cancer, the doctors have not been able to make it go away yet and Shin still needs to take medicine. Its true that at that stage normal life expectancy could be as little as 4-5 months. But we thought even that is too long for the kids to deal with. As it turned out the extra year that Shin had was already half of Toby's life. So we saved conversations that Shin was probably not likely to make it until Shin started to really weaken and we thought she would not have much longer left. As it turned out she had about 3 weeks left when we started giving the kids more information.
We planned on talking to them together, but it turned out hard to find a good time when Shin was able to talk and the kids were calm enough to listen. So instead we agreed I would talk to them when I had a chance. I explained that the doctors do not think they are going to be able to cure Mommy's cancer and that she could die and it could be soon. I explained that I would take care of them, Elisa our helper would be here to help take care of them and that their Grandmother (my mother) would move here more permantly to help take care of them. Josie asked what if something happens to me. I gave them the long list of people who love them and would want to take care of them. Toby asked what if all the grownups die, and I said that wont happen or the kids won't have anybody to boss them around and they could eat chocolate and watch movies all day - which made them quite excited. I said the I've read on the interenet (which to yound kids is the all knowing library), that many children who lose their parent think is their fault. I asked who's fault do they think it is? Josie said it was the cancer's fault. I told her she is very smart, and that we all did everything we could to make Shin better and it was no one's fault.
We talked about when some people die and they are buried and others are cremated. Josie didn't like the sound of cremation and said she didn't want that. We talked about how the body doesn't matter after we die. I said mommy's soul will be in your heart and in heaven. We talked about Star Wars which we had recently scene and talked about how when Ben Kenobe and Yoda died, they still looked after Luke Skywalker. Not being religious, makes things more difficult at this stage. I'd be happy to tell them anything that would make it easier for them, but also aware that I don't want to make my words seem insincere if one day I explain to the kids that I myself am not religious.
Josie said she hoped mommy won't "die soon" (I noticed she used my words). I tried hard to keep my composure and did not cry as I explained this to the kids. I don't think I was cold and unemotional but tried hard to keep strong. As a result neither Toby or Josie cried when I explained this all to them. Partly, they may have already known it, seeing Shin get weaker over time. Also maybe the withdrawal process is not so severe since Shin had been increasingly less able to do things with the kids, and thus they were already used to me doing everything for and with them.
The other thing I did after I spoke to the kids was explain to their schools the situation and what I had explained to the kids and asked them to keep an eye on Josie and Toby and let me know if they were behaving differently. As it turned out they seemed to do just fine. Josie's teacher mentioned that there was a school outing to Chinatown and about 10 of the other kid's mothers came along and that Josie was likely thinking of her mother not being able to come. Josie seemed to cry rather quickly when she got in an argument with a friend, but bounced back quickly and got over it. She sat on the bus next to her teacher and they talked about the movie the "Polar Express".
I continued to try to talk to the kids every day about their mother. I kept trying to make sure they felt secure that they will be well taken care of. Josie got tired of hearing about how they will be taken care of. So we talked about what we would miss most. I'm repeating my Eulogy, but Josie said her love, I said her smile and Toby said all of her. Josie said its ok because she will always find her love in her heart and I could find her smile in my heart. and Toby chimed in that he will find all of her in her heart.
This post is long enough already and I'm emotionally tired going through it again. I still want to update on how we all said goodbye and how we have been doing since, but I'l have to do that in the next post.
Tony
After reading various books I think some of the key things we took to heart were 1) children hold a surprisingly strong grudge over "white lies" told to them, 2) its not their fault, its not their fault, its not their fault - its surprising how kids can take blame on themselves, 3) at young ages, its really all about them - who will take care of them, how will things change ...etc, 4) they won't really know how to feel and act and will take their cues from us.
Other things which we tried to prepare for were 1) overcoming being alone with the loss, 2) avoiding being picked on for being different, 3) answering other questions - are they orphans?, what happens if something happens to me?, will i re-marry?, what happens to the body? ...4) discipline has to be kept up as kids are likely to feel more insecure if patterns are changed.
So from the beginning, we been pretty straight with the kids about Shin's cancer. When Josie was only 2, Shin explained she had cancer, what it was, that it was not something you can "catch", that there are treatments that can make her better but that it may make her hair fall out and may make her tired and feel sick, and importantly that she could die. As it turned out Shin had surprisingly few side effects to the chemo, but she did loose her hair. Shin didn't like the feel of a wig and Shin was always the "accept (or not) me as I am" type of person. We noticed that hair issue seemed fairly big for Josie who was then about 3. Other kids in Josie's kindergarden class would stop and stare at Shin. Shin would simply explain that she is taking a special type of medicine that makes her hair fall out (needing to emphasize its a very special type of medicine - no other medicine will do that). Shin was outside Josie's class once waiting to pick her up while the kids were working on an art project. Shin heard Josie stand up and announce to the class the her mommy does not have any hair. It was not really a big deal, but it did signal that it was something she was dwelling on and seemed to be worried about others reactions to it.
As Shin's condition got worse with the recurrence and the spread to lungs, liver, and brain, we debated how much to tell the children. We decided that we didn't need to change what we had already been saying. That is that Shin still has cancer, the doctors have not been able to make it go away yet and Shin still needs to take medicine. Its true that at that stage normal life expectancy could be as little as 4-5 months. But we thought even that is too long for the kids to deal with. As it turned out the extra year that Shin had was already half of Toby's life. So we saved conversations that Shin was probably not likely to make it until Shin started to really weaken and we thought she would not have much longer left. As it turned out she had about 3 weeks left when we started giving the kids more information.
We planned on talking to them together, but it turned out hard to find a good time when Shin was able to talk and the kids were calm enough to listen. So instead we agreed I would talk to them when I had a chance. I explained that the doctors do not think they are going to be able to cure Mommy's cancer and that she could die and it could be soon. I explained that I would take care of them, Elisa our helper would be here to help take care of them and that their Grandmother (my mother) would move here more permantly to help take care of them. Josie asked what if something happens to me. I gave them the long list of people who love them and would want to take care of them. Toby asked what if all the grownups die, and I said that wont happen or the kids won't have anybody to boss them around and they could eat chocolate and watch movies all day - which made them quite excited. I said the I've read on the interenet (which to yound kids is the all knowing library), that many children who lose their parent think is their fault. I asked who's fault do they think it is? Josie said it was the cancer's fault. I told her she is very smart, and that we all did everything we could to make Shin better and it was no one's fault.
We talked about when some people die and they are buried and others are cremated. Josie didn't like the sound of cremation and said she didn't want that. We talked about how the body doesn't matter after we die. I said mommy's soul will be in your heart and in heaven. We talked about Star Wars which we had recently scene and talked about how when Ben Kenobe and Yoda died, they still looked after Luke Skywalker. Not being religious, makes things more difficult at this stage. I'd be happy to tell them anything that would make it easier for them, but also aware that I don't want to make my words seem insincere if one day I explain to the kids that I myself am not religious.
Josie said she hoped mommy won't "die soon" (I noticed she used my words). I tried hard to keep my composure and did not cry as I explained this to the kids. I don't think I was cold and unemotional but tried hard to keep strong. As a result neither Toby or Josie cried when I explained this all to them. Partly, they may have already known it, seeing Shin get weaker over time. Also maybe the withdrawal process is not so severe since Shin had been increasingly less able to do things with the kids, and thus they were already used to me doing everything for and with them.
The other thing I did after I spoke to the kids was explain to their schools the situation and what I had explained to the kids and asked them to keep an eye on Josie and Toby and let me know if they were behaving differently. As it turned out they seemed to do just fine. Josie's teacher mentioned that there was a school outing to Chinatown and about 10 of the other kid's mothers came along and that Josie was likely thinking of her mother not being able to come. Josie seemed to cry rather quickly when she got in an argument with a friend, but bounced back quickly and got over it. She sat on the bus next to her teacher and they talked about the movie the "Polar Express".
I continued to try to talk to the kids every day about their mother. I kept trying to make sure they felt secure that they will be well taken care of. Josie got tired of hearing about how they will be taken care of. So we talked about what we would miss most. I'm repeating my Eulogy, but Josie said her love, I said her smile and Toby said all of her. Josie said its ok because she will always find her love in her heart and I could find her smile in my heart. and Toby chimed in that he will find all of her in her heart.
This post is long enough already and I'm emotionally tired going through it again. I still want to update on how we all said goodbye and how we have been doing since, but I'l have to do that in the next post.
Tony
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Memorial Service - Eulogy by Tony (video)
Attached, is the video of Tony's Eulogy. We'll post the other segments when they are finished being edited.
Tony
http://www.vimeo.com/3077874
Tony
http://www.vimeo.com/3077874
Memorial Service - poem by Ella, Ciara & Josie
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 poem read by Ella, Ciara and Josie:
KINDNESS by Ella Brady
Kindness is something about friends.
You need to be kind to make friends.
Friends are about kindness.
For an example,
if your friend falls over you can help them up.
Or if a person that you know falls over,
you could help them up.
If somebody couldn't be near something because they were hurt,
you could stay with them, even if you didn't want to.
And that would be kind to them.
Kindness is love.
So if you love someone you would be kind to them.
You can even be kind to people that you don't know.
For an example, if you were walking down the street one day
and you saw somebody that you didn't know,
you can still be kind to them.
You can help them carry a heavy bag
or hold the door or gate open for them.
Or you could just say hello
and that will still make a big smile on their face.
Kindness is being kind to everybody.
I love being kind.
Below is the poem read by Ella, Ciara and Josie:
KINDNESS by Ella Brady
Kindness is something about friends.
You need to be kind to make friends.
Friends are about kindness.
For an example,
if your friend falls over you can help them up.
Or if a person that you know falls over,
you could help them up.
If somebody couldn't be near something because they were hurt,
you could stay with them, even if you didn't want to.
And that would be kind to them.
Kindness is love.
So if you love someone you would be kind to them.
You can even be kind to people that you don't know.
For an example, if you were walking down the street one day
and you saw somebody that you didn't know,
you can still be kind to them.
You can help them carry a heavy bag
or hold the door or gate open for them.
Or you could just say hello
and that will still make a big smile on their face.
Kindness is being kind to everybody.
I love being kind.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
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.
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.
Memorial Service - letter from Michelle
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 final letter from Michelle to Shin:
Hi Love,
Once again I am writing to you while I sit on the plane that is taking me to see you.
I guess the reality is setting in that you are going soon to be where I can't see you, but where I will always be able to hear you and feel you.
I have no idea what its going to be life for you, whether there is somewhere you go, or whether there is nothing beyond this, I will try to ask you once you know.
I don't even know really what it's going to be like for us once you're gone, but this one is easier to work out.
I know that Tony, Josie and Toby will be loved intensely for the rest of their lives. I know that they will be sad and that they will miss their mommy. But I also know that they will have as many hugs and as much love as they need to help their tears and mend their hearts.
I know that they will know their mommy in spirit, helped by everything you have left for them and everyone who loves you. Despite your fears, I know you have given them so much already, You've given them life, love, laughter and everything else you have, that they have needed.
Now, this is the hard part.
I think your work here is done. I think you have given them everything you can and more. I think you need to have faith in what they have already.
You are going to leave us soon, we won't be able to see you anymore. You need to make peace with this.
You can be dragged off the stage kicking and screaming that the show's not over, or you can leave knowing that everyone love it and applauds you for such incredible quality.
You have inspired so many people Shin. Sometimes without even knowing it. You have left so many people with a feeling of faith and confidence in themselves. That's a gift you've given them that they won't forget and that no one can take away.
You are strong, you are hard, you are tough and at the same time you are kind and gentle.
I love you all much Shin. I love every part of you. The good, the bad and the everything in between.
Your Blue Bonnet, Shelly.xxxx.
Below is the final letter from Michelle to Shin:
Hi Love,
Once again I am writing to you while I sit on the plane that is taking me to see you.
I guess the reality is setting in that you are going soon to be where I can't see you, but where I will always be able to hear you and feel you.
I have no idea what its going to be life for you, whether there is somewhere you go, or whether there is nothing beyond this, I will try to ask you once you know.
I don't even know really what it's going to be like for us once you're gone, but this one is easier to work out.
I know that Tony, Josie and Toby will be loved intensely for the rest of their lives. I know that they will be sad and that they will miss their mommy. But I also know that they will have as many hugs and as much love as they need to help their tears and mend their hearts.
I know that they will know their mommy in spirit, helped by everything you have left for them and everyone who loves you. Despite your fears, I know you have given them so much already, You've given them life, love, laughter and everything else you have, that they have needed.
Now, this is the hard part.
I think your work here is done. I think you have given them everything you can and more. I think you need to have faith in what they have already.
You are going to leave us soon, we won't be able to see you anymore. You need to make peace with this.
You can be dragged off the stage kicking and screaming that the show's not over, or you can leave knowing that everyone love it and applauds you for such incredible quality.
You have inspired so many people Shin. Sometimes without even knowing it. You have left so many people with a feeling of faith and confidence in themselves. That's a gift you've given them that they won't forget and that no one can take away.
You are strong, you are hard, you are tough and at the same time you are kind and gentle.
I love you all much Shin. I love every part of you. The good, the bad and the everything in between.
Your Blue Bonnet, Shelly.xxxx.
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