To My Uncle

 

My dearest uncle,

I am so sad that I could not tell you these things when you were here.  But, my heart is content because I know you can hear me.

I think back to all my memories of you.  My first memory of you is when my grandfather, my father, and some of the uncles went night fishing in 152.  We had gotten there right before it got dark and were getting ready to set up our place to sleep for the night.  I remember you digging a hole on the side of the small cliff.  You stated that it was where you were going to sleep.  You seemed so thrilled about the idea too.  You dug and dug, and before dark, you placed your sleeping bag inside.  I do not know why you wanted to sleep there, but when we all woke up early the next morning, you were still there, inside your self made cave.

You enjoyed your life and lived it as such.  You were the first person in our family to get a tattoo.  We were visiting, and you came home with a girl on your shoulder.  When I asked you who she was, you didn't know.  You just thought that she was so pretty.  Silly uncle. 

You loved cars, especially American muscle cars.  When I think back to you in your younger years, I think of you driving around in your black car.  Oh, how the girls must have loved you.  You loved pit bulls, and ignited our family to love them too.  I love how cousin put it.  "If you knew Simba, you knew Uncle."  He was your son before you had a son.  He was graceful and strong; just like you.

I recall back on my immature childish ways.  You were always on our case about something, and we nick named you dragon breath.  With all the spats, you were always the first to place your pride to the side and apologize.  Maybe never verbally, but always with your actions.  When we were younger, you and my sister had gotten into an argument.  My father was visiting North Carolina, and would not be home for another week.  But, as soon as he got home, you were there no longer than a minute after.  You had brought over two chickens.  We had dinner together.  My father said that was your way of apologizing.  Many people say you had a temper, but they failed to noticed that you apologized just as quickly as you angered.  And that you forgave others just as quickly too.  I can honestly say no one in our family is like that; just you.

I will always remember your silly grin and your goofy humor.  I will remember our last conversation.  God planned it so well.  I rolled down my window and yelled out, "hi uncle!"  You and your catch phrase, "hey girl".  You asked us where we were going, and I said to grandma's.  I invited you over, and you said you'd come.  I am blessed that our last conversation was a happy one.  I am so thankful that we had those few seconds to chit chat.  

I will recall all the memories we've shared.  I will miss you forever Uncle.

 

My Family's Beautiful Tradition

My family have been Christians since they were still living in Laos.  When they moved here to the States, my family adopted new Western Christian traditions and kept a few traditions from the hmong culture.  

My uncle passed away two weeks ago, and he was not a strong follower of Christ.  My grandparents were preparing for a Hmong Christian funeral, but also included my uncle's wishes at the very end of the funeral.  (I did not and do not object, as I wanted my uncle's wishes to be granted, and as the funeral was not my own).  Hmong Christians do not beat a drum, or play the "qeej".  Instead,  we have a service, sing hymns, and prayer.
One thing my family has kept from the hmong tradition is the act of bowing or "pe" for any monetary gifts from friends, other family, and even strangers.  It is a sign of giving thanks to those who donate, and is done by the male family members.  There is a little announcement which includes the name of the person, the event (funeral of person), and the donation (money/gifts), and at the end, a saying that lets the men know that they should bow.  I sat up by my uncle and watched as the men from my family bow every time someone donated.  At one point of the funeral, the bowing went on for an hour straight.  Talk about leg day.  But, they all did it without complaint for 3 days.  I am proud of my uncles, my cousins, my husband, my brother in laws, my father, my brothers, and for the men who has yet married into the family (but will, hopefully one day soon) for stepping up and carrying through. 

It is an act done in funerals, but as well as weddings.  I don't know the proper way of bowing.  But, my cousin (who practices Shamanism) tells me there is a slight difference from bowing in funerals and bowing in weddings.  I can only recall her saying that the arm/hand gestures are different. 

The funeral went well.  God blessed and protected the funeral so all went within our favor.  The Hmong Mennonite Church was gracious enough to prepare our meals for my family and our guest.  My family is truly bless to have them.  For everyone who came to support us emotionally, physically and financially, thank you.  

"Ua tsaug rau nyaj tshav ntuj."