My Uncle Has Gone to Meet the Creator

I last saw Uncle Wesley in early November 2019 at the Tionghua Funeral Parlor in Likas, when I went to pay my final respects to the late Aunty Jainah, his beloved wife (Read here). Earlier this year, I had hoped to visit him again at his home in Kiulu. Sadly, those plans had to be postponed due to the outbreak of the Covid-19 Omicron variant shortly after the Chinese New Year in February.

News of his passing came on 11 March 2022, when my cousin Esther posted on Facebook that Uncle Wesley had died the day before, on 10 March. At the Tionghua Funeral Parlor on 13 March, Esther shared with us that her father was found unconscious in the compound of his house, apparently while doing some gardening. He never regained consciousness. There were no goodbyes. A dark blue patch was discovered at the back of his neck during the examination of his body. Could it have been an aneurysm, just like the one that took my mother years ago?

He will be laid to rest in the family burial ground, just a short walk from his home in Kiulu.

Since Aunty Jainah’s death, Uncle Wesley had continued living in their family home, cared for by a full-time maid. For someone who had spent nearly his entire life closely bonded with his wife, adjusting to her absence must have been unimaginably difficult. Esther told us that, from time to time, her father would be seen wearing his late wife’s clothes around the house - a quiet, poignant reflection of how deeply he missed her. It was a heartwarming and equally heartbreaking detail that spoke volumes about their love.

Through Uncle Wesley, I came to learn much about my maternal family roots (Read here). His passing marks not only the loss of a dear uncle but also the quiet fading of another voice from my mother’s generation.

Over the years, I had visited him several times at his home in Kiulu (Read here), and he too visited me during Chinese New Year in 2013 (Read here).

He will be dearly missed - especially whenever Kiulu is mentioned, or comes to mind.

With cousin, Esther in front of the casket of the deceased.

During my visit to the funeral parlor, I had the opportunity to meet one of Uncle Wesley’s sisters, Aunty Jainih - someone I was meeting for the very first time. The moment I saw her, I was struck by a familiar presence. There was something in her face, her expressions, that reminded me of my mother.

It was an instant connection, and not entirely surprising - after all, they share the same bloodline. Each of them carries a thread of the Gomorun legacy in them, and in Aunty Jainih, I caught a glimpse of that heritage shining through once more.