Recently we flew home to San Francisco to meet relatives that we have
never met, barely knew their names, and only knew them through old stories and old
photos.
Storytelling, an old art, allows us to know many people, events, and history. My mom was a storyteller. These stories she told gave us a sense of identity-of who we are, where we’ve come from, who came before us and what we were made of and upon whose shoulders we stand on. Her stories gave us a sense of place, a sense of history in the long line of relatives, and a sense of belonging that filled in the spaces where there were no cousins, no aunts and uncles, no grandparents while growing up. Her stories presented how she saw her world, her truth, her reality.
I now realize these stories presented her values; honor your parents and elders, family is central, obligations and responsibilities above all else, and to be in harmony and balance as in nature. She told us what was most important for her, what she loved, what she remembered and why she wanted what was best for us.
Storytelling, an old art, allows us to know many people, events, and history. My mom was a storyteller. These stories she told gave us a sense of identity-of who we are, where we’ve come from, who came before us and what we were made of and upon whose shoulders we stand on. Her stories gave us a sense of place, a sense of history in the long line of relatives, and a sense of belonging that filled in the spaces where there were no cousins, no aunts and uncles, no grandparents while growing up. Her stories presented how she saw her world, her truth, her reality.
I now realize these stories presented her values; honor your parents and elders, family is central, obligations and responsibilities above all else, and to be in harmony and balance as in nature. She told us what was most important for her, what she loved, what she remembered and why she wanted what was best for us.
After many years of hearing these stories, we were finally going to meet
some of mom's relatives, our relatives. What
do we say? How do we connect? These questions run through my head;
What do you remember about our mom?
What was she like as a child? Was she funny?
How old were you when she left China and went to the United
States?
Did you miss her?
What
more do you remember?
Tell me about our family? How many boys, how many
girls?
Who was the oldest? Who was younger?
Which auntie? Who was her husband, what is his name?
Which uncle? What was his wife's name
What did they do? How many kids did they have? Who are our cousins?
When did you move to Australia, did you all move at the same
time?
And more questions. And they answered with grace, humor , generosity and love.
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| Remembering Mom and Dad, adding flowers |
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| At Chinese Cemetery, Fay and Jek Louie headstone. L to R: Robin Choong,Shanchee Choong, Auntie Jean, Cousin Jennifer, Auntie Hong |
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| Wayne and Robin Choong |
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| 1st Cousin Alan Li and wife Dorothy |
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| 1st Cousin Cathy and husband, Dennis Gee |
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| L to R: Cousin Jennifer Choong, Auntie Jean, mom's 3rd and youngest sister, and Auntie Hong, mom's 2nd sister. |
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| Walt Louie, LA, CA, and Robin Choong, Sydney, AUS |
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| The Clan at the Golden Gate Bridge lookout |
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| Brother Walt, Cheryl, Anna and Jessie Louie |
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| Attempt to list mom's family members over dinner on the paper placemat. |
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| Cousin Jennifer and Shanchee Choong brought a photo to show their current family members |
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