What will I say in front of his grave? To my friend – Old Frank
Driving to the airport in a bleak cold winter morning with my high school friend Calvin, I could feel the chill when he told me that Old Frank had passed away. After staying in Beijing for a year, Calvin was on his way to go back to MIT to finish up his PhD.
:”What? When?”
:”Yes, he passed away 3 years ago in 2002 and he is buried in Beijing.”
:”Why wasn’t him been brought brought back to the US?”
:”No one wants to take him back.”
:”Did he have kid?”
:”No, and three former wives have all forgotten about him and his sister said it was too costly to ship his remains back. So one of his former student came back to China and handled the funeral.”
A total silence for both of us.
We knew Frank when both Calvin and I were busy with our undergraduate degrees in China. Frank was an American ad visor teaching English and technical writing in Beijing. I remembered the times we spend in his comfortable Beijing apartment and read his books on English literature and history and the original English magazines. Being young kids, we were fascinated about the lives in the US. After we read stories in magazines in Times, NewsWeeks and Economists, we would come to his apartment and discuss the stories and some times we would write up a summary of the stories. That was how we practiced our oral and written English. Now 20 years later, Calvin is finishing up his PhD in MIT and I am already employed by an University in China after finishing my PhD in the US. The influence of his wisdom and knowledge to two young kids are far stretching and felt even today. Through him, we got to the know the other side of the world and that ignited our imaginations for future knowledge and career development.
“What was his story after I left in early 90s?” I asked.
“He stayed in China after he finished his contact with Beijing United University, but decided to stay in China. Perhaps he was already felt home here. He was making 3000 RMB in late 80s which was a huge salary. However, times have changed and there were more and more English teachers who arrived in China. He had to take three jobs to make 10,000 RMB/month in late 90s. It was still OK salary but not enough to keep his life style specially after he lost his housing privilege. The school said that he was too old and thus was too much a liability to keep him fulltime. So he was asked back as a contract employee. He did buy an apartment in Beijing and made Beijing his second hometown after New York. One of his student came to MIT and told me his situation. He was dressing poorly for classesand was bad tempered in some lecturers and the school was not happy about that. I was fine in the days but I cried very hard late at night when i was alone at home.” Calvin said with a calm voice.
:”Do you say that his life is a failure?” I asked.
:”What do you think.” Calvin replied with his eyes fixed on the traffic in front.
I could not say more. My brain was processing all the new information that I just received. I do not know what should I think of.
“Where is his grave?” I asked.
“XXXXXXX.”
“OK, I will go to visit him. I am one of the people who benefited from his teaching.”
What will I say in front of his grave?