Popo was the only grandmother I ever got to know. For those brief times I flew across the states to see her she always greeted me with warmth and enthusiasm...and food. Lots of food. She was a great influence on exposing me to Chinese cuisine and culture. She and I would fold wontons together with the sweet anticipation of wonton soup. She spoiled me with shrimp, spare ribs, red beans, and noodles. There was no hesitation when it came to making fun of me for, in my younger years, taking two slices of bread and stuffing corn in the middle to make a corn sandwich. I have no recollection of this event but I don't doubt it.  Popo had a memory like an elephant. 

    As well as memory, we all know she never had a lack of words. At one point she was talking in the kitchen and I had stealthily slipped out of the room, seemingly unnoticed. As I retreated across the house I still heard her carrying on with the conversation as if I hadn't moved an inch. But, without her constant talk she wouldn't be Popo, and I enjoy the stories she tells of her past. She has gone through a much different world than I. Listening to her is like a glimpse into an alternate world which I found fascinating. Going through the war, living in China and Argentina, living in the time before cellphones, and being the oldest of more siblings than I would ever want is such a different way of life that I can hardly imagine it. She and her family were really the pioneers of their generation.

     It is an honor to have known such a strong woman like Popo. All throughout her life she was a leader, kept to what she believed in, protected her family, worked hard to get by in this world and to have her children succeed in the best way possible. I am proud when I say my grandmother is an immigrant. I am proud when I say she was one of the first female students in MIT. I am proud when I say my grandmother was an elegant dancer, I can only dream of becoming a dancer like her. And I am proud to be the granddaughter of such a magnificent, talented, and resilient woman

            My grandmother was always a key role model in the family, and especially to me as her only grandson. I had never met my grandparents from the other side of the family so my only two grandparents are always very important to me. Fushi always did things her way and she got things done the way she wanted to. She did not let others or any circumstances keep her from doing what she wanted. Some may have criticized her for this way of thinking, but if you look at the kind of life she lived, you would have to be blind to think that she was not an extremely accomplished woman. She had survived the slaughter of the Second World War in China. She brought herself up to travel to the other side of the world to get one of the best educations in the world.  She became one of the most talented dancers that many of us here have probably ever met.  She and her husband raised two very successful children in an amazing home that she designed herself. This way of thinking is what got her to all those places. 

Many of you may not know this but I always looked up to her because of this and she taught me that in order to successful in life you have to be aggressive, you have to be decisive, you have to be your own person.  You can’t let others opinions keep you from accomplishing things that you want to do. She made the decision several years ago to go with us to Shanghai while in a wheelchair. Despite her lack of mobility and suggestions from others that she should not go she still made the decision to get on that plane. We helped her every step of the way, but it wasn’t any easier on her as it was for us. She wanted to see her family, her friends and where it all began again. If she didn’t go on that trip she would have passed without seeing any of those things. That's what we should all remember her for.  She recognized life was short and she knew that life would continue to knock her down, but she stood up and told life that it hits like a bitch.

I have been dealing with life treating me like this lately with both college and the Marine Corps.  But every time one of these frustrating situations happen, I do exactly what Fushi would have done. She made it clear that life doesn’t give any handouts, and if it does, they will never get you anywhere.  You must bring yourself up, open the doors and don’t get upset about things that you could change by yourself.  She was always there for us, the younger generation of the family, to teach us these things.

Days before her passing, I was in my dorm room late at night and my mother Facetimed me, I saw Fushi lying in her bed.  I thanked her for all that she has done, and despite her extreme difficulty speaking, I could see that she was still fighting on.  She stood her ground to the very end.  I saw it. She didn’t even want me to come visit her the day before she died and insisted that I stick with school. I eventually came out here, but I was a day too late. She died the way she wanted to, in the house, in her house, the house she made and the house she made so many other things in. So don’t mourn her death.  Celebrate her life!  

Perhaps because we were the only foreign students in our class, along with Kyu Lee, your mother and I hung out together a lot. In those days there was not much diversity at MIT, at least not in the Architecture Department, as you can see from the Life magazine Building 7 photo. There was only one African American in the department, Gus Solomon, who after graduation became famous as a modern dancer. Fuhsi  was also the only co-ed in our class although I think there had been another young woman in the department but she dropped out. Your mom took me under her wing and made sure that I was properly looked after and fed, which often consisted of dumplings in the apartment she shared with Marilyn