February 10, 2023
February 10, 2023
I am writing to let the friends and family of my father, John Jung, know that on February 4, 2023 his younger brother George died in San Bruno, California.
George was born in Macon, Georgia, the youngest of the 4 Jung siblings. He was what society today calls "developmentally delayed" though neither a professional nor a precise diagnosis was ever applied to him. Caring for George throughout their lives and providing for his well-being should he outlive them was the constant labor and concern of my father and of his sister Jean who both predeceased George, and of his sister Mary who has become too unwell to fulfill that role anymore.
George lived most of his adult life with his mother, first in San Francisco, then in San Bruno. When she died, he lived alone surrounded by an enormous army of toys, action figures, and stuffed animals. They were named after either Sesame Street characters, action heroes, celebrities, or us or our petsHe recorded the birthdays of loved ones and famous people in a journal and reported the birthdays of the moment to all visitors. He asked visitors to send him regular photos of their dogs for his wall. He was, as my father often said, relentlessly optimistic and cheerful, always focused on his next toy acquisition and never succumbing to the melancholy that must have attended the constant shrinking of his world as family members passed on, his mobility decreased, and he went from wandering the public transit system all over San Francisco to sitting on the floor of his tiny suburban home.
When I was a child, he frustrated me with his capricious behavior, rude snorting, and aggressive playing of chess (at which he beat me regularly, using his queen to croquet-mallet my pieces onto the floor and shouting, "knock that sucker off the board!!!") When I visited him as an adult, it was heartbreaking to see how much he loved interacting with people and how little power he had to make that happen or to otherwise take an active role in his life. He was a true innocent and a very sweet soul. Our visits always ended with a stricken look from him at the prospect of departure and a sense that I was leaving a beautiful world of repose and gentleness back into the shock of reality -- so that I too was looking forward to the next visit.
I know that George's welfare must have been weighing heavily on my father once he realized that George would indeed outlive him. I trust and hope that he knew we would do our best for him. It is profoundly moving to think of these two elderly men, my dad constantly lecturing his brother about why his allowance wouldn't be increased, and think that they were once just two Georgia boys romping through the fields at cowboys and Indians.
George's last year could not have been easy, in many ways being the most solitary of his life. But I believe that moving into a nursing home, he got more opportunity to be social and am glad to know that he was well cared for in his last days. With George's passing, my dad's lifelong, solemn obligation and duty to his brother has ended and on that matter he can now -- if he wasn't already -- rest in peace.
M E M O R I A L S E R V I C E
Monday, February 13, 2023, 11:00 AM
Madrone South – Lot 24, Green Lawn Cemetery
1100 El Camino Real, Colma, California
George was born in Macon, Georgia, the youngest of the 4 Jung siblings. He was what society today calls "developmentally delayed" though neither a professional nor a precise diagnosis was ever applied to him. Caring for George throughout their lives and providing for his well-being should he outlive them was the constant labor and concern of my father and of his sister Jean who both predeceased George, and of his sister Mary who has become too unwell to fulfill that role anymore.
George lived most of his adult life with his mother, first in San Francisco, then in San Bruno. When she died, he lived alone surrounded by an enormous army of toys, action figures, and stuffed animals. They were named after either Sesame Street characters, action heroes, celebrities, or us or our petsHe recorded the birthdays of loved ones and famous people in a journal and reported the birthdays of the moment to all visitors. He asked visitors to send him regular photos of their dogs for his wall. He was, as my father often said, relentlessly optimistic and cheerful, always focused on his next toy acquisition and never succumbing to the melancholy that must have attended the constant shrinking of his world as family members passed on, his mobility decreased, and he went from wandering the public transit system all over San Francisco to sitting on the floor of his tiny suburban home.
When I was a child, he frustrated me with his capricious behavior, rude snorting, and aggressive playing of chess (at which he beat me regularly, using his queen to croquet-mallet my pieces onto the floor and shouting, "knock that sucker off the board!!!") When I visited him as an adult, it was heartbreaking to see how much he loved interacting with people and how little power he had to make that happen or to otherwise take an active role in his life. He was a true innocent and a very sweet soul. Our visits always ended with a stricken look from him at the prospect of departure and a sense that I was leaving a beautiful world of repose and gentleness back into the shock of reality -- so that I too was looking forward to the next visit.
I know that George's welfare must have been weighing heavily on my father once he realized that George would indeed outlive him. I trust and hope that he knew we would do our best for him. It is profoundly moving to think of these two elderly men, my dad constantly lecturing his brother about why his allowance wouldn't be increased, and think that they were once just two Georgia boys romping through the fields at cowboys and Indians.
George's last year could not have been easy, in many ways being the most solitary of his life. But I believe that moving into a nursing home, he got more opportunity to be social and am glad to know that he was well cared for in his last days. With George's passing, my dad's lifelong, solemn obligation and duty to his brother has ended and on that matter he can now -- if he wasn't already -- rest in peace.
M E M O R I A L S E R V I C E
Monday, February 13, 2023, 11:00 AM
Madrone South – Lot 24, Green Lawn Cemetery
1100 El Camino Real, Colma, California