Farewell, Mrs. Lai, Helen By Dean Liang (梁基典), November 19th, 2011

It was a great shock – stunning, to receive the message of the passing of Mrs. Lai on Sunday morning, November 5, 2011, the news that was totally like thunder crashing from the sky. Just two days ago on Friday, we’d gone to the hospital to visit her, and several of us were together at the party room next door to her room. There she was, as lively as we had known her, mentioning to me about her high school days with my sister that appeared to be the most delightful memory for her on that day.

During the Japanese occupation of Taiwan before WWII, there were separate high schools for Japanese and Taiwanese youth both in Tainan and Taipei. For Taiwanese boys or girls to enter these Japanese-only high schools, the first process was the screening of the family’s history and their status in the colonial structure. Applicants then had to take the entrance examination, which was particularly hard for Taiwanese youth, so normally in a class of over 100 students there were only a token number of 2 or 3 Taiwanese students. (In contrast, in Taiwanese-only high schools there were seldom any Japanese students.) However, in Helen’s class there were 8 Taiwanese girls for that year, so for obvious reasons they became a very close knit group, both in and out of school. I was told by Helen that she had been to our house (which is in the rural part of Tainan, more than 10 miles from Helen’s house) and had met my parents. She also told me so many stories about high school that were so dear to her heart.

When I went to college in Taipei, I went to Helen’s church, which was located within walking distance of the two major universities. For that reason, the number of students in that church always outnumbered the members of the church. Every Sunday after the service, she always stood outside of the building and extended greetings to the visiting students, though I didn’t recall had any extended conversation with her. That was more than fifty years ago.

After we relocated to Boston from Chicago, the first Sunday when we visited BTCC, she told me immediately that she remembered me from the Taipei church. I thought: she sure has a good memory for a lady with that age to be able to remember me. Several months after that one Sunday she told me she was my sister’s classmate in high school and, since now my sister is deceased, I needed a sister here to watch over me – so she told me she is my sister here in Boston. Since then I have been calling her “Ne-San”, a Japanese word for big sister every time when I saw her.

Now I am standing here wanting to share my thoughts of losing her with her family members. The feeling I have now is my memory of going to Taipei’s old airport to say farewell to friends who were going abroad for study. The plane was always parked on the runway, and passengers were walking toward the plane. We knew they were going to a place where freedom and liberty are, and on this side of the fence we had to find some financial support so we could board the plane like them. At the airport, I would tell myself it would be just a matter of time when I would be on the other side of the fence heading toward the land of liberty and freedom where there would be no more fear of losing our freedom.

Helen “Ne-San” we are here to see you off to the land where you will no longer suffer any pain or face the surgery stretcher. You will be surrounded by all your beloved family and friends – particularly, your dear friends from high school. They will meet you at heaven’s gate and wait for your arrival. As much as I know about my own sister, I know the first question she will ask you is, “Kei-li san, What took you so long?”

And they all will roar with laughter.

Adieu, Farewell, sayonara, Kei-li san, have fun with all the angels, family and friends and we hope to see you soon,

Ki-tien