Eunice’s Diaries

I.   Preface

Last Tuesday I received a surprising email from a college student who used to study violin with my wife.  Her name is Eunice Lee.  In my recollection, she is a shy and reticent girl.  She was a brilliant student who excelled in her academic study in high school, and was accepted by one of the top public universities in the United States, the University of California, Berkeley. 

The email was written in English with an attachment of her two diaries.  The first diary was written five years ago, when the cancer spread from my kidney to my pancreas.  The second diary was written recently.  These two diaries were written in a span of five years, and by reading them, you can see how Eunice has grown, from a naive teenager to a college student with self confidence and wisdom; from an immature young girl, to a young lady with faith, love and inspiration. 

When reading Eunice’s diaries, my eyes filled with tears many times.  I am deeply touched not because her diaries are attributed to me and every small incident that she wrote is based on a true story, but because she revealed a common secret to me:  Every seemingly common and insignificant thing we do in our daily life, a hug, a smile, a word of encouragement, may plant a seed into the soil of the people around you, and someday it will sprout up, bearing startlingly sweet fruits.

Next day in the hospital waiting room, while waiting for my next infusion, I shared Eunice’s diaries with two ladies sitting next to me, a mother and her daughter.  Because the words on the print-out were too small, the mother had trouble reading it, so she asked her daughter to read it for her. Having only read halfway through the first diary, the pair both began to weep.  The entire clinic waiting room was quiet, every cancer patient and his or her family members seemingly deeply immersed in thought.        

Could a diary written by a junior high school student really have such a great influence on its readers?  That afternoon as I went back home, I immediately wrote a letter to Eunice asking her to give me permission to translate her two diaries from English to Chinese.  With her permission, now I am delighted to present Eunice’s two diary entries to readers.      

II. Eunice’s email, Tuesday, August 6, 2013

Dear Joseph,

 When I first heard that you were diagnosed with cancer in my high school years, I remember how hopeless and lost I felt, because you were and still are one of the most precious people in my life. I have always appreciated everything you have done for me and everyone else in Diana's studio. I would not have had my love of violin if not for you and Diana, and I'm very thankful that you always accompanied me. Recently I went back and read my blog that I wrote in 2008. This is what I wrote when I was a sophomore in high school.

III. Eunice’s first diary entry, written five years ago

Saturday, November, 22, 2008

No one I have known well or truly loved has ever been diagnosed with cancer. Until recently.

Ever since I started playing the violin, he has always been there for me. Always comforting me, always giving me hope.  In a sense, he is my number one fan, though I don't deserve one. He is someone who will always tell me I did a great job, telling me that it does not matter whether I win or not, because in his heart, I am always a winner.

I remember many years ago when I went to a Bach Festival Competition, I sat in the front row of the church, and my violin fell on the floor. I started crying hard because I thought I would not be able to perform. But he came up to me and told me it was okay, that my violin was okay…actually, that he had also dropped his violin once when he was a young boy. As much as it comforted me back then, I realize that it could have been a lie. A good lie. A lie that helped me cheer up, helped me perform successfully in the competition.

Whenever I play the violin, I feel safe and comfortable knowing that a familiar presence is behind me, accompanying and helping me.  He's always giving words of help. Telling me that he loves hearing me play all the time. He is someone who helps me continue to pursue my goals as a violinist. Someone I always want to play for, showing my style, my passion and my love.

And now that it seems like there might not be much time left, the only thing I can do is regret. Regret that I did not cherish the moments with him as much as I should have. Regret that I do not have that many pictures with him. Regret that I do not remember as much as I should have. Regret that I was only able to spend 11 years with him till this moment. And all I can do now is pray, cry and actively try to remember moments with him. 

I remember all those recitals we had together. He would always play the piano with me and once, I remember, I accidentally skipped a page of my music and he quickly skipped the page on his piano parts accordingly, so it would not be evident to the audiences. Those small details, those small deeds are special and memorable to me.  In those years, he's always put long hours into practicing his piano parts, so my recital will sound great with his accompaniment.  And I forget to thank him for all his efforts.

Around two years ago, I went to VOCE, a string competition held by the Music Teachers Association of California. After I finished playing he gave me a hug and told me that he was my number one fan. And now I realize that is not just him who is my number one fan, but I who am his. I don't deserve to have a fan like him. He always tells me he loves to hear me play. And I never once told him that I love to hear HIM play, and I never once told him that I am ever so grateful and thankful that he has always accompanied me all these years. And that I am able to play violin because of him, because he is the bow to my violin. As cheesy as it sounds, it is the perfect description of him. I do not seem to be able to play without him. And I never even thanked the Lord, for giving me such a blessing, having someone like him there beside me.

And then I remember when I won a gold medal in a competition at the Southern California Jr. Bach Festival. During my lesson he came in and gave me a hug, telling me how proud he was of me.

During the Concerto Competition at Biola University, he told me that everything was in God’s hands, that no matter what, he was so proud to hear me play and so proud that I improved so much. And then his proud and excited voice told me that I won the audition.  Bouncing up and down, screaming and yelling, I thanked him, but I was too focused on my own accomplishment to mean it with my heart, as I do now… which seems to be too late.

As I search my computer for pictures at the concerto concert, I cannot express enough how angry I am at myself for not noticing earlier that I have no pictures with him. How foolish and stupid I am. Not even able to realize how special someone is to me until there seems to be no time left. 

And now I do not know what to do. When I go to competitions, I will have no one to rely on anymore, no one telling me I did a great job, no matter how crappy I played. No one telling me that he is always my number one fan. And now that word seems like a lie. Always. How is there an “always” when he will not be there for me anymore? He is the one person I should have realized was the reason behind all the success I have right now. He called me early in the morning on the day of the audition, told me to come over so he can help me one last time. And now the only words I can think of are: “Thank you. Thank you for everything. Without you, nothing would have been possible.” I cannot even say these words directly to him because I am afraid that I will not be able to tell him without breaking down, which is something I must never do in front of him. I must be strong. I must tell him it is okay, for the first time in my life, tell him instead of him telling me, and all I can do is pray and pray for a miracle.

He is such a great person. Always living life honestly and cheerfully, despite all the hardships he has. He is one of the nicest and most caring men I know. And I cannot help but feel some sort of anger at God that He is taking him away from me. This man has always lived his life honestly, always with a smile on his face. I can still see him with his briefcase of music telling me last minute tips before I go into my competition. Who will do that for me now?   

And it hurts remembering that the last time he ever played for me was on that day at UCLA at a master class. The professor is Movses Pogossian, a world renown violinist. I sounded utterly horrible without an accompanist playing the third movement of Bruch's violin concerto. But Joseph told me that he would accompany me during the master class. I remember precisely how Allison, Diana, and I met Joseph at UCLA. He told me to play Bruch one time before the master class started. I can still see him vividly with his briefcase full of music, going over one last note, phrase, beat, and especially tempo, the obedient accompanist who followed my dynamics at a simple command, the one who took pictures of my master class at UCLA. I do not know what I will do without him. I feel like I cannot play violin without him at my side. And I feel even more lost and alone.

I will miss him and I will never stop loving him. He is like another father to me. I am so scared that I will forget about him and forget those memories I had with him. And I am so angry with the one word that is taking away someone so very important in my life: Cancer.   

IV. Eunice’s note

According to the National Cancer Association, pancreas cancer life expectancy is minimal: Only 20% of those diagnosed live past the first year, and of those only 4% live to 5 years.

 I never intended for you to read that, but I attach it because I want you to know that I have always appreciated and loved you. I attach it also to refresh these memories and to tell you that I remember the small details. And so that you will remember that the high school Eunice, the college Eunice and the working Eunice will always remember everything you did for me.

It is only now as a believer in Christ that I look back and see how you loved me and everyone else in Christ’s love. That the love you poured out and your sacrificing heart would not have been evident or possible without Jesus, and I thank Him for that. In fact, I praise God because back in high school, I was not Christian. But I still blogged about praying to God and I remember praying to God, asking Him for a miracle. I also attach the diary I wrote in five years ago, to shed light on God’s perfect plan and to show His glory, because back then, I did not truly understand who Jesus was. But as a sophomore in high school, I wrote about how I would pray to God.

The next blog is a more recent entry from my diary. Here is what I wrote. 

V.  Eunice’s diary entry written five years later

Sunday, August 4, 2013

Looking back, I realize how faithful God was and is. It is only when I look back that I realize really how faithful God is in my life. I asked for a miracle, and He provided… all before I was a believer. He really treasures us as His children. He knew I was his daughter and that I would accept Him one day, and He provided a miracle to me. He loves us so much. He is indeed perfect. His plans are so deliberate- back then, nothing was certain, but here we are, you having survived cancer the past 5 years, and becoming a stronger Christian in the process. Here I am, as a believer. I had no idea I would ever come to become a devout Christian.

I accepted Christ as a sophomore in college. My life before was built on hopes, dreams, and ambitions, and I was always afraid to commit to Christ. Now, I am a firm believer in Christ and I lean on Him for everything. I believe my calling is in the workplace (business), and I hope to glorify Him and spread the gospel in this calling.

Reading your article moved me far deeper than when I remember you being diagnosed with cancer because I see God’s glory now. I weep at how beautiful it is that you acknowledge God’s plan, how much He loves you, and how He has redeemed you. And I am amazed and humbled at how you are pointing all your glory back to God- through your article, through you helping cancer patients, you are leading them to our rock, our savior, Jesus Christ. It is so humbling and it gives me strength to see you work so hard for the kingdom. I am inspired to do the same in my calling.

I was afraid a long time ago when I thought we would lose you. God has been so good and given us more time with you, and I am sorry I have not been able to visit more. The future is always unplanned-only God knows what will happen. But I know now that it was in God’s plan for you to be diagnosed, and for you to become stronger in your faith, and ultimately for you to deeper realize Jesus’ love for you. This note does not come close to capturing everything going through my mind right now because I am making the connections now, and am praising God for another testimony of His perfection. I did not see in high school how God would be relevant in my life, and in your life as well.

Thank you for being an obedient, sacrificing, loving, humble, and strong man of God. It is an example for us believers to trust in God with our heart, and it is an example for non-believers to cherish the gift of life, and to ultimately be led to Christ through this revelation.

I do not know how your health is right now. Of course, I would like to hear good news. But I am not in high school anymore, and I see things differently, not only as a more mature person, but as a more mature Christian, so I say in confidence that although I do not know your health at the moment, I do know that God is so so pleased by you. And that He loves you so dearly. God has redeemed you from all illnesses. He is forever renewing your heart, and your heart is strong and courageous. Jesus is forever your healer, and the Holy Spirit gives you wisdom and strength through these times.

VI. Postscript

As I read Eunice’s two diary entries written over a span of five years, I recalled a conversation with a recent visitor, a young man who recently graduated from a seminar school. When this young man heard that my cancer had started spreading to my lungs and other parts of my body, he candidly asked me which pastor I would like to choose to host my memorial ceremony and present the eulogy for me.        

I was stumped by this question which I never thought of before, and remained tongue-tied for a good while.  I then honestly told him that I had not planned for such after-death arrangements.  As I spoke to him, a second thought flashed into my mind – maybe this young seminary student was trying to recommend himself to me, seeking an opportunity to present the first eulogy in a memorial service in his pastoral career.

It is traditional to have a memorial service for people who have passed away. Although the form of memorial ritual varies between countries and ethnic groups across the world, the purpose of holding a memorial ceremony is similar:  for the people still alive to reminisce about the people who have died, to comfort the surviving spouse and close relatives of the dead one.    

The eulogy is the climax of a memorial ceremony.  If the dead one was a great person with high social status, the eulogy would be filled with praise for his accomplishments.  If the dead one was a common person, the eulogy would muse over memories of the past in his simple life.      

The first half of my life was spent during the first thirty years of the People’s Republic of China.  This was a turbulent period with political propaganda embodied in every common citizen’s daily life.  Beginning in elementary school, I had to live under the strong political influence of a eulogy, which was compiled in our text book, and had become a reading requirement for everyone.  Using contemporary twitter words to describe it, this eulogy drew “most reads” among readers in China in those days.  It was a famous eulogy presented by the communist supreme leader Mao Zedong in a memorial ceremony for his bodyguard Zhang Si-de.  In this eulogy, there was a phrase, “Serving the People”, which became a famous political quotation across the country thereafter.        

The second half of my life was (and is being) spent on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, in southern California. In this later life I have attended many memorial ceremonies. I noticed that although life is busy and people may not have much time to visit each other, they would show up to the memorial ceremonies of their old friends to comfort their spouse and relatives, in spite of having not seen each other for many years.  I also learned that in most memorial ceremonies I had attended, there was hardly ever any political milieu or eruption of howling and weeping.  The atmosphere of memorial ceremonies overflows more with solemn silence than wailing. The spirit of eulogy encompasses more blessing and trust than melancholy.            

How will my memorial ceremony to be held?  Which pastor will present the eulogy at my memorial service?  As my health deteriorates and the tumors start spreading to different parts of my body, it appears that these questions should be brought up to the family for discussion.     

By reading Eunice’s diaries, I have found my answer.  I do not need my family to hold a memorial ceremony, asking all of my friends and relatives to come all the way to southern California to eulogize my life accomplishments at the service. I do not need a pastor to deliver a eulogy as the lid is laid on my coffin. I want to have a new and meaningful commemoration to substitute the traditional memorial ceremony.     

The person who will write my eulogy doesn’t need to be a pastor of high prestige with a background of theological training.  He or she does not have to be my close relative who knew me well or a colleague who worked with me for years. The contents of my eulogy do not need to commend my life achievements and those philanthropic projects done by my right hand, but unknown to my left hand.  I want my eulogy to be a very common story, which can arouse an echo from people’s hearts, make them ponder, and take action.        

Although I have not discussed it with my wife and children yet, I feel that Eunice’s diary entries are the best choice for my eulogy.  They were written by a young high school student, telling the true story of her spiritual transformation. Five years ago, a seed was planted into the soil of her soul:  a casual praising, a sincere hug, a collaboration at a musical performance. Five years later, this seed has sprout up, releasing positive energy, and trumpeting a splendid symphony over her life.  It makes her live through the love of the people, and feel the grace and love of God.        

I choose Eunice’s diary, as my eulogy, to be presented on a platform, weibo.com, which is not a traditional memorial ceremony. I hope that these two simple and straightforward passages can generate positive energy from the hearts of web readers.  So you can take humble initiatives in the ordinary course of your daily lives, starting with trivial duties and events, passing your love to your family members, your neighbors, your schoolmates and coworkers, even to people unknown to you on the street and in town. May every reader, after reading Eunice’s diary, be able to keep a tranquil virgin soil in your soul, while laboring to amass earthly wealth. In this soil, you can stay away from the noisy and booming business, talk to your own soul and the God in your heart, seek the everlasting truth, create and build up heavenly wealth.

Finally, I would like to share with readers a beautiful poem that Eunice sent to me in her email.  This poem was written by King David in the Bible, in which David described how he communicated with his own soul and God.

Praise the Lord, my soul;

  all my inmost being, praise his holy name.

Praise the Lord, my soul,

   and forget not all his benefits—

who forgives all your sins

   and heals all your diseases,

who redeems your life from the pit

   and crowns you with love and compassion,

who satisfies your desires with good things

   so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s. 

 (Psalm 103, 1- 5)

Dancing with Cancer

Dancing with Cancer

Five years ago, I was at the apex of my career, living a happy and comfortable life with my wife and children. However, fate played a terrible joke on me: I was diagnosed with terminal kidney cancer.  This unexpected calamity struck and horrified me, who rarely ever needed to see a doctor.

I was told that the cancer I had was malignant and incurable, with an average life expectancy of one year. During the next 6 months, I walked in the shadow of death with two surgeries, which afflicted me with excruciating pain. My world, which used to be an elegant castle built by solid rock, was now crumbling and falling apart.

The surgeries left me an incomplete body. Besides the extreme physical pain following the surgeries, I lost my left kidney, where the fist-sized cancer tumor had originated; I lost my pancreas, because the tumor was spreading and growing on my pancreas after the first surgery. I also lost my duodenum, part of my stomach and bile duct.

Having lost all these precious organs that God had deemed necessary for our lives, I found myself as helpless as an infant, and every moment of my daily life became an unknown challenge. What is left of my stomach is extremely sensitive, giving me intolerable pain when it cannot digest the food I eat. With the loss of duodenum, no matter how good the food may be, my body cannot fully absorb the nutrition contained in it. Loss of the pancreas, the only organ in the human body that functions both as an endocrine and exocrine gland, brings even more serious trouble to me.   Without the pancreatic juice and digestive enzymes produced by the exocrine gland, I have to take a very expensive medication named CREON whenever I eat; otherwise, none of the food will be digested.  Without the insulin produced by the endocrine gland, my blood sugar can rise up to a fatal level that will eventually lead to dysfunction throughout my entire body.   In order to maintain my blood sugar, I have to use a needle to test my sugar level five times a day, and then adjust the insulin quantity injected into my body.  I've become a “bio creature” that needs medication to sustain every minute of my life.

The most traumatic moment for me was when I heard news that I was going to die soon after my second surgery.  The tumor continued to grow and was spreading at an exponential rate. The doctor told me that I was left with only one year at most. At the doctor's suggestion, I signed up to be a “guinea pig” in a clinical trial for a new drug that was not yet approved by the FDA. I was informed that this new drug would give me another year of life, if I was lucky.

This was the darkest period of my life. Unlike the two previous surgeries, in which I was rushed to an operation room without much time to think of death, being a “guinea pig” was a completely different story. Every patient participating in the trial for this new drug had to draw blood every two weeks for testing, and take a CT scan every three months to monitor the growth of the tumor and effectiveness of the drug.  Every visit to the doctor's office was a traumatic experience, as if I was walking to my death.

We all know that, sooner or later, everyone will die. However, when you are actually approaching death, you start to realize that you are not yet ready to handle it. According to research, 60% of people with cancer die from fear and other psychological reasons. Though I could not find any proof to test its accuracy, I believe that this statement is somewhat true.

During the clinical trial, when I heard that the effectiveness of this new drug was measured by weeks of participants’ life, I realized that I was only a few feet away from the gate of death.  I was chilled and horrified by this imminent threat.   

People rely most on almighty God when they are in the deepest pit of despair.  During those days, I looked up into the sky and prayed to God for strength and peace. I started reading the Bible often, hoping that the gospels would be the living water, which could heal my spiritual wound.

The character that eventually lifted up my spirit was an unexpected person in the Bible.  It was neither Peter, the great leader of the twelve disciples with eloquent oratorical gifts, nor Paul, the most prolific writer in the Bible, the author of thirteen New Testament books, and the greatest evangelist in the history of Christianity. 

He was a silent man. He didn't write a single book in the Bible. You cannot even find a single sentence that he said in the Bible. He was an ill man. Although the Bible does not reveal what kind of illness he had, I guess he was in a similar situation to me, having an incurable disease like cancer, and being in spiritual desperation. Although this man didn't leave any words for later generations, I believe people who read the Bible would all remember him. He was Lazarus, who was called and revived by Jesus four days after his death.

Reading the story of Lazarus revealed a brand new picture of life in my heart.  To me, Lazarus was no longer a remote historic character who lived in two thousand years ago. His story of reviving from death by Jesus was no longer a legend.  He was a lively person staying right by my side, carrying me out of breathless deep shadow, giving me the strength and courage to overcome every obstacle in my daily life.  

Lazarus’s grave “was a cave, and a stone was lying against it.” Jesus said, “Remove the stone.” (John 11: 38-39) I was inspired and shocked by these short verses, realizing that  Lazarus and I had been walking into the same cave, the cave of death, suffering in pain and fear. This cave, blocked by a huge rock, had no air, making people suffocate and lose the desire to live. If we did not remove that rock, I as well as Lazarus would have no chance to survive.  We were dying. 

Lazarus and I cannot move the huge rock based on our power alone. It is an impossible mission.  Lazarus is already dead, with his body decayed, rancid, and filthy, whereas I am a stage IV cancer patient with a death sentence, devoured by the merciless tumor. We have no choice but to surrender ourselves, and to completely rely on the supreme almighty God stretching out His merciful hands to remove the huge rock which blocks the cave.

When Jesus cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” (John 11:43)  Lazarus was raised from death, and walked out of the cave.

Lazarus revealed a mystery to me.  If you learn how to embrace death, you will know how to treasure every precious moment in your life. This is a required course that I have to learn.  I began to understand that I must learn how to completely trust in God, calmly accept death, and relieve myself of fear.  This will heal my overwhelming sorrow and keep me with a high spirit in adversity.   

Relieved of the fear of death, I feel alive and revived like a newborn child.

I no longer regard those radiology reports as a verdict of my death sentence. Regardless whether the report shows either good or bad news, I treat them as a banquet celebrating a new born baby.  Compared to most kidney cancer patients who died without much time to say good bye to their loved ones, I am very fortunate. I enjoy a VIP treatment that most cancer patients do not have.  Because I am a “guinea pig” in the clinical trial, my blood is being drawn and analyzed every two weeks, and I have a CT scan every three months. Every tiny change in my tumors is scrutinized by my doctors.  This gives me a special blessing. Before I reach the end of my cancer journey, I have enough precious time to tell my family members and friends how much I love them.        

I no longer pity myself as a “bio creature”.  Loss of my left kidney, small intestines and pancreas put me into an unpredictable hardship.  It is a tremendous challenge to sustain my life. Every time my wounded stomach pains, erratic blood sugar levels cause my feet to go weak, heart beats fast, my head dazzles, and my eyes blur, I am always left in awe, praising almighty God who created heaven and earth, and how amazing he is to create such unbelievable, precious, irreplaceable organs.   I feel ashamed to have taken them for granted so long before I lost them.    

I am no longer wandering through shadows.  Although I don't know how long the revived Lazarus lived after he walked out of the cave,   I believe that after he experienced death and learned how to embrace death, every day of his new life was immersed in the glory of God. It will be a meaningless effort to find out how many more days he lived.

Time flies by. This is the fifth year after I was diagnosed with cancer. Most of the people who were in the same clinical trial with me had already died, but I am still miraculously alive, becoming one of a few survived rare species.  Every time I go to the hospital for my routine treatment, Dr. Pal, my oncology doctor at the City of Hope Hospital,  always warmly greets me with smile. The way he smiles seems to say:” You are still alive.”  He told me that among the many patients who participated in the clinic trial, I am the top one percent performer, having the best result in responding to the drug, and living the longest so far.   

“I am still alive!”  This sentence has become the most frequent greeting phrase when I greet visitors or talk with people on the phone in recent years.  People familiar with my situation understand the underlying meaning of this greeting. But for those people who do not know my condition, it is an awkward moment when they first hear this unusual opening, trying to find the right words to continue our conversation. 

During five years of dancing with cancer, away from busy work, I have spent most of my time with my family, enjoying dwelling in a warm household.  This is the most intimate and happy time that I and my wife have ever had in our thirty years of marriage.  Together, we water the blooming flowers on the backyard slope, plant vegetables, feed the colorful Koi fish in the pond, listen to a pair of parrots singing, pick up the eggs laid by our four hens, and play with our two loyal dogs. I treasure these precious moments, and consider every simple meal we eat as the last supper given by God. 

Living at home and spending time with family does not mean being isolated from the rest of the world. I try to do little things to help the people around me, let them feel the love of God through me. As my life term is being extended and prolonged on a three month basis, I've become an amateur cancer consultant. Many newly diagnosed cancer patients have heard of my case and call me, asking questions. In our conversation, I listen to their sorrow and pain, and comfort their souls.  I've become a live witness, sharing with them my experience of dancing with cancer, from the fear of death, to accept and embrace the death. Learn how to completely entrust in God, living in God’s glory every day.    

After a long period of time in the clinical trial to treat my cancer, the side effects of the new drug began to show up in my body.  This has made it difficult for me to schedule any long-term plans and travel arrangements in advance, as a normal healthy person does.  It is a new lesson to learn and a great challenge to my faith in God.  I found my love of music at a young age, and I used to enjoy playing piano accompaniments for my wife’s violin students.  Now every student competition and recital schedule written on my wife’s teaching calendar becomes a milestone that I am not sure I can cross. I revel in every performance, the final movement of my splendid life, with these lovely young musicians on the stage.       

Dancing with cancer, I no longer fear death. While the CT scan taken two months ago confirmed the cancer has spread to my lungs and other parts of my body, I calmly and peacefully accept reality. I do not count how many days remain in my last earthly journey. “Each day has enough trouble on its own.” (Matt 6:34). With gratefulness in my heart, I peacefully walk on my cancer journey, enjoying the beautiful scenery alongside the road, reaching my hand out to help those people who are in hardship and difficulty.      

I no longer regard cancer as an unexpected calamity, but think of it as a ladder leading me to an extraordinary new life.