Samuel Yee

As I mourn your untimely death, Dad, I wish to remember and to thank you for the lovingly dedicated, energetic, and hard-working sacrifices you made for family and others, throughout your life. From the time I was a little girl, I loved to go to your bookshelf (which you built) and pretend I could read and understand all the math equations, and physics, and whatever else seemed fascinating. Over time, as Mom and others would fill me in on your life, I know in the end, you were a very rare person.

 Where shall I start?

Dad, from the time you were 18 months old, you were left without a father.  This man whom you never knew was to become your inspiration and motivator.  We know that “Yeh-Yeh” (paternal grandfather) was an extremely intelligent person, who acquired his PhD in literature.  My “Auntie” said that in China, especially well over a hundred years ago, one had to be either very rich or very intelligent to go through advanced schooling.  I have heard that Yeh-Yeh was not wealthy. I strongly sense that not having a father, and having a “loving-in-her-own-way” and extremely harsh mother, colored your outlook on life and certainly your parenting.  Darryl, my dear, dear brother, you and I know. With very little financial means, you joined the Navy, then studied and obtained a baccalaureate degree in chemical engineering. 

You found the love of your life through Uncle Kenny Chinn.  Uncle Kenny’s wife, Helen, was Mom’s “Da-Da” (older sister). Two best friends married two best sisters. 

You and Mom became a family, with two sons, Darryl and Garry, and a daughter.  Your profession took us to California, where you worked at Atomics International, General Electric, Westinghouse, and numerous other places.  Along the way, you pursued further education, earning your masters degree in electrical engineering, then later another in nuclear engineering. 

Finally, when us “kids” were in college, so were you, to obtain your PhD in nuclear engineering. Dad, I am sure Yeh-Yeh was very proud of you.  I know Mom was beaming inside, having never had the opportunity to go to law school, which she had dreamed of doing. It’s O.K., Mom, you accomplished so much in your lifetime, too, just like Dad did

 Going to college all those years was one thing, but I marvel at all the other family, home, and work obligations you balanced and were responsible for, at the same time. 

 As I think back, I wonder “how you could work full-time, go to graduate school, and take care of the entire family too?”

You made time for our day trips to the Chinatown in Los Angeles (in those days, one had to travel there for ethnic food, not like today, where Asian stores are plentiful everywhere). You mowed and nurtured the lawns, maintained the cars, helped with housework, and homework, (only I needed your help, not my brothers!), fixed everything that broke or needed maintenance, and every Saturday, you drove all three of us kids to piano lessons, and after that you’d take us to McDonalds for lunch, and to the park to play basketball.  I recall learning the word, “collateral,” because you gave them your watch each time, so we could use the park ball. 

At the Kingsbury house, for which you and Mom had to legally fight for, due to racial discrimination, you and Mom and us kids built the wooden fence—quite a feat for a 1/3 acre lot.  I’ll always remember our “job.”  It was to scoop out the mud for the fence post holes, using Chinese rice bowls.

 In later years, Mom’s Volvo died.  No repair shop could fix it, so you went out and bought a Volvo manual and fixed it yourself.  You truly amazed me all my life!

 For a person who was not at all an animal lover, Mom convinced you to let us have a pet.  We had Sparky, the Beagle, for 18 years.  She only had Kennel-Ration with warm milk as a puppy, but from then on, she ate what Mom cooked, Chinese food, American food, T.V. dinners, even a once in a while canned chili. 

 When Sparky was older, and us kids were in Seattle, you and Mom cared for her in California.  I heard that she ran away once.  Though you could not bear the thought of carrying her home in your arms, you cared enough to bring her back in a wheelbarrow. Just the thought of you picking up Sparky to load her onto the wheelbarrow, undoubtedly with gloves, was quite a sacrifice.  I love you for that, and thank you.

Our latest “baby,” Mocha, was so tiny she’d slip under the chain-linked fence, tease me by running back and forth to me from the neighbor’s yard, then take off towards Beacon Ave. I was terrified I’d never get her back. 

 I told you, Dad, about this “puppy naughtiness.” Quiet man that you are, you dutifully figured out how to stop Mocha, without saying a word to me. You devised a way to reinforce the fence lower to the ground, to prevent sneaky Mocha from running underneath and away.  I watched you use this wratcheting-type tool to tighten more chain-link to the existing one. Dad, you always took care of us, often times with great ingenuity. Besides being born with good genetics, such as an unusually high HDL, you kept yourself in phenomenal physical condition.  Until age 88, you exercised vigorously for an hour a day on your rowing machine, no matter how hard you had expended yourself up until “exercise-time.” You worked the machine so hard that you broke it, and had to get a new one.  

You rarely ate fried food, and never touched a French fry.  You only had alcohol once, when someone mistakenly served you an alcoholic beverage at a restaurant, which gave us all a good laugh—but not so much you.

 You were sick only twice that I know of.  Once after a slipped disc operation, because you injured your back while repairing the garage door spring.  The other, when you were in your 60’s, you assembled your “Sweetpea” Tiffany’s basketball hoop for hours in the rain, and had to stay in bed, sick for two days. 

I will always treasure the two trips back to China with you and Mom.  They were my “trips of a lifetime.”  I’ll never forget how you and Mom sat by my hotel bed for two days, while I was seriously ill.

 The chance to visit our relatives in the “Yee” and “Lou” villages was the most priceless and unforgettable experiences in my life. 

 We saw how different their life was from our’s, including how oppressive it was.  I recall racing back to you and Mom, upon overhearing the villagers declare that “The people from the Gold Mountain don’t have to work!” 

 Not only was it there, that you were surprised to learn that I understood Toisan, you had the most valuable memory which I am sure you had longed for all your life:  The opportunity to pay your respects to your father’s grave. You seemed so sad and contemplative while intently staring at Yeh-Yeh’s grave. I was thankful that at long last, you could be “near” your father. 

On that note, with a son visiting his long-lost father, I shall conclude with “Life after Mom.”

 Mom passed away ten agonizing years ago. Our lives were shattered; Dad and the rest of us were devastated. 

I want to thank Darryl, Paula, Garry, Carrie, Tiffany, Joe, Patrick, Jonathan, Rebecca, Debbie, and Tony, for keeping close and bringing joy to Dad’s broken life each time you visited. Debbie, I’ll always remember how Dad perked up every time you came over. 

Dad loved each of you, with all his heart. 

 In your own way (from a distance), Dad, you loved your canine family: Sparky, Niko, Sashi, Faye, Leroy, Paige, Lady, Fluffy, Mocha, and Ricco.  I’m glad you “got a kick” out of zapping them with your space gun.

On January 12, 2021, Dad enjoyed blowing out his candles on his 97th birthday, as they adorned his favorite Whopper Jr. hamburger and cheesecake. He delighted in his “Zoom party,” attended by Garry, Carrie, Debbie, Jacki, Rebecca, Jonathan, Tiffany, Joe, Mocha, and me. You all made him very happy!

 After Dad was hospitalized in January, 2020, I thank goodness that Garry knew that Dad would be miserable in a nursing home.  Both he and Carrie welcomed Dad into their home. 

I am eternally grateful to Carrie, for taking the most remarkable care of Dad:

Carrie, thank you for taking care of Dad’s every need, from cooking, and feeding him food and administering medications, to toileting, to cleaning, to cutting Dad’s nails and hair, to comforting him, to encouraging him to “eat more” and spending more time sitting up and watching T.V., and for loving him and worrying about him. Dad adored you, Carrie!  I always say that when you came into our family, you were an Angel who was Heaven-sent.  Many thanks, and all my love to you, Carrie, my dear Sis.

 Dad, I pray that you are now with your dear parents, wife and our beloved Mom, Auntie Irene and Uncle Paul and niece Leila, Auntie Helen and Uncle Kenny, Auntie Doris and Uncle Joe, Auntie Lonna and Uncle Phil and Diana, Blanche and John Curcio, our “Chinese-Italian” family, and all the other loved ones whom we have so sadly lost.

 I will always be in awe of what one person could achieve and accomplish in one lifetime, while making sure his family was his uptmost priority. Dad, I will always love you.  Rest well, after working so hard all your life.  Sweet dreams in Heaven.

 I would like to express special thanks to Dad’s doctor at Virginia Mason, Dr. Minori Yoshioka. Our father was fond of you, and he respected and trusted your excellent and magnanimous care.

Thanks to Columbia Funeral Home for your efficient and compassionate care of our family’s needs.

 Thank you to Lakeview Cemetary for the Naval recognition for Dad and for your kind care of us. 

 With all our love, The Samuel Yee Family