Chicago, IL
May 22, 2016
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Chasing Wind
It was one
of those stress-free days, so I wandered off to the Lake... Haven't
been there for a long time, but it remains to be a very charming place!
Chicago, IL
May 22, 2016
Chicago, IL
May 22, 2016
Sunday, May 15, 2016
The journey is the reward...
My dear little Chelle-chelle,
This may be the last time I'd allow myself to call you this way, as you are a real doctor now -:)
It's
been an overwhelming couple of days... I didn't anticipate the level of
loud and silent celebrations -- from the ceremony itself and then via social
media. It's been a rewarding experience for me, and I am so happy
for you.
Once again, Chelle, congratulations! It's a great accomplishment, and we are all very proud of you!!
Here is a photo I put together to remind you of the young and hopeful little Michelle; to remind you of your eager and happy self when started this long journey to pursue
medicine. Now, you've been through part of the journey. I hope your
eagerness remains and your passion and devotion fresh... From this
point on, finally, grades are no longer enough. You will soon be
responsible for making life-and-death decisions, and that's an enormous
thing!
I
just witnessed some 180 students graduating from the same class of a medical school. Their
paths will diverge, eventually, and the road to be the BEST doctor is
not easily traveled. Continue your life-long journey with optimism,
persistence, passion, devotion and strength. I hope that at the end of the journey,
you'll be able to look back and smile.
Love,
Mom
Michelle: August 7, 2012 and May 12, 2016
Thursday, May 12, 2016
Dr. Michelle
Dear Dr. Michelle,
Congratulations again -- we are very proud of you!! Continue to devote your heart and soul to what you love to do and be the best doctor you can be!
As you open a new chapter in pursuing medicine, please allow me to once again share with you a few words from the book so brilliantly written by Dr. Paul Kalanithi.
When Breath Becomes Air
By Paul Kalanithi
A life spent in medicine would grant me not merely a stage for compassionate action but an elevation of my own being: getting far away from petty materialism, from self-importance trivia, getting right there, to the heart of the matter, to truly life-and-death decisions and struggles.
A mother came to me, newly diagnosed with brain cancer. She was confused, scared, overcome by uncertainty. I was exhausted, disconnected. I rushed through her questions, assured her that surgery would be a success, and assured myself that there wasn't enough time to answer her questions fairly. But why didn't I make the time? I feared I was losing sight of the singular importance of human relationships, not between patients and their families but between doctor and patient. Technical excellence was not enough. As a resident, my highest ideal was not saving lives -- everyone dies eventually -- but guiding a patient or family to an understanding of illness or death.
With my renewed focus, informed consent became not a juridical exercise in naming all the risks as quickly as possible, but an opportunity to forge a covenant with a suffering compatriot: Here we are together, and here are the ways through -- I promise to guide you, as best as I can, to the other side.
Our patients’ lives and identities may be in our hands, yet death always wins. Even if you are perfect, the world isn't. The secret is to know that the deck is stacked, that you will lose, that your hands or judgment will slip, and yet still struggle to win for your patients. You can't ever reach perfection, but you can believe in an asymptote toward which you are ceaselessly striving.
Congratulations again -- we are very proud of you!! Continue to devote your heart and soul to what you love to do and be the best doctor you can be!
As you open a new chapter in pursuing medicine, please allow me to once again share with you a few words from the book so brilliantly written by Dr. Paul Kalanithi.
When Breath Becomes Air
By Paul Kalanithi
A life spent in medicine would grant me not merely a stage for compassionate action but an elevation of my own being: getting far away from petty materialism, from self-importance trivia, getting right there, to the heart of the matter, to truly life-and-death decisions and struggles.
A mother came to me, newly diagnosed with brain cancer. She was confused, scared, overcome by uncertainty. I was exhausted, disconnected. I rushed through her questions, assured her that surgery would be a success, and assured myself that there wasn't enough time to answer her questions fairly. But why didn't I make the time? I feared I was losing sight of the singular importance of human relationships, not between patients and their families but between doctor and patient. Technical excellence was not enough. As a resident, my highest ideal was not saving lives -- everyone dies eventually -- but guiding a patient or family to an understanding of illness or death.
With my renewed focus, informed consent became not a juridical exercise in naming all the risks as quickly as possible, but an opportunity to forge a covenant with a suffering compatriot: Here we are together, and here are the ways through -- I promise to guide you, as best as I can, to the other side.
Our patients’ lives and identities may be in our hands, yet death always wins. Even if you are perfect, the world isn't. The secret is to know that the deck is stacked, that you will lose, that your hands or judgment will slip, and yet still struggle to win for your patients. You can't ever reach perfection, but you can believe in an asymptote toward which you are ceaselessly striving.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Remembering My Mother
Happy Mother's Day!!
I can't think of a better way to remember my Mother than paying a special tribute to her on Mother's Day. Mom passed away 5 years ago, and I wrote this letter
to her 2 weeks after her passing. She was such a wonderful mom and a
great friend...
3/5/2011:
Dear Mom,
I have not written a letter to you in such a long time. We were so used to talking on the phone every week when I told you everything about Michelle, about my family, myself, my job and my love in photography.
It’s been two weeks since I talked to the doctor who treated you
at the ICU. He told me that you suffered a brain-stem hemorrhage, a
condition with an extremely low survival rate. I was in absolute
disbelieve, and still am…
I remember when I was little, each night before I went to bed, I would always say: “Bye-bye, Mama, travel safe and come home early (妈妈再见, 一路平安，早点回来).” You would smile back and then kiss my little forehead – it was so sweet and satisfying… I remember the summer days when all the other kids were playing outside, Tang Ming and I would wash our balcony with water and wait for you to come home to have special dinners with us. After dinner, we would lay down on our balcony and play games – that’s when I learned the word “fun.” I remember how happy I was to wait for you at the balcony each afternoon. Once I see you walking home from far away, I would call you with my loudest voice, then rush downstairs, run to the street and run to you… I remember the night before each holiday, after going to bed, I would call you and remind you to wash my “little red guard” symbol for me to wear the next day – I always fell asleep quickly after you reassured me that everything would be in good order for “tomorrow.” Mom, today, I want to tell you that it is the love and reassurance you have given me throughout the years that makes me so strong and confident.
I still remember vividly that when I was in first grade, you told me to study hard and go to college when I grow up. I did not even know what “college” meant at the time, but you told me to just remember that “I need to go to college.” I memorized it at age 6. When my classmate’s parents asked me what I would do when I grew up, I said “I need to go to college.” They were terrified, because during the Cultural Revolution, no one was allowed to think about going to college or pursuing academics. They told me to never repeat what I said again. I nodded, but deep in my heart, I knew “I need to go to college.”
Right after the Cultural Revolution, you taught me the importance of learning English. I was skeptical and did not see the need for a proud Chinese to learn any language other than Chinese. I clearly remember what you said – foreign language is the tool for you to open the window to the foreign world. After 33 years, today, I am still humbled by your wisdom.
Looking back, it’s been 23 years since I came to this foreign
land. I have shared with you every little progress I made over the
years. Mom, as I think back, I know deeply that I would not have been who
I am today without your tremendous sacrifice. Please know that I understand the
painful price you’ve paid for us to have a better life. I will forever be
thankful for that!
Mom, you left me so suddenly that I did not even have a chance to tell you everything I wanted to tell you –
Thank you for showing me what love really is. Thank you for helping me see beauty and sunshine in life. Thank you for teaching me the meaning of kindness, tolerance, optimism, persistence and strength. Thank you for always keeping an open mind and a young heart – it’s comforting to remember that you never lost interest in exploring new things in life, even at age 85. You enjoyed your life fully and had accomplished everything you wanted to accomplish.
I love you, Mom, as always. 妈妈再见, 一路平安.
Your Little Tang Pei (你的小汤培)
4/3/2011:
Celebrating Life
My friends told me that on the 40th day after
the person's passing, there should be a celebration of that person's
life. It's been 40 days since Mom passed away on 2/22/11 at 9:42
PM. Looking back, Mom lived a long, fulfilled
and enjoyable life:
1. She was a wonderful Mother and a loving Grandma.
2. She was an accomplished doctor and was deeply loved and respected by her patients and colleagues.
3. Throughout all my life, no matter when and where, she never failed to give me guidance and advice. She was a wise lady and a great friend.
4. She made significant sacrifice for me to have a successful life in a foreign country.
5. She was very progressive, and I believe that her open mind, optimism, curiosity and persistence had brought her all the success in life.
6. She loved life and truly understood how to enjoy it fully. She had brought so much joy to her family and friends.
1. She was a wonderful Mother and a loving Grandma.
2. She was an accomplished doctor and was deeply loved and respected by her patients and colleagues.
3. Throughout all my life, no matter when and where, she never failed to give me guidance and advice. She was a wise lady and a great friend.
4. She made significant sacrifice for me to have a successful life in a foreign country.
5. She was very progressive, and I believe that her open mind, optimism, curiosity and persistence had brought her all the success in life.
6. She loved life and truly understood how to enjoy it fully. She had brought so much joy to her family and friends.
Mom will always be loved and missed.
Friday, May 6, 2016
Remembering My Father
I wrote this letter to my father last April (4/12/2015 to be exact). He read it 3 times, and his mind was very clear at the time. Thinking back, I am glad I did it.
Like most of the typical fathers in China in the 1970s, you were not deeply involved in my day-to-day life. However, I vividly remember a few things from my childhood:
1. Since I was very little, you had been very strict about how I should hold chopsticks properly. I remember that, for a period of time, at the dinner table, you would correct my way of holding chopsticks each and every time I did it wrong. You may not remember it now, but it's amazing how small things like this could make its way to my deepest memories.
2. Throughout my childhood, I learned first-hand how much you loved photography. Every winter, whenever there was a snowstorm, you'd take me to Tao Ran Ting Park and take all kinds of pictures of me in the snow. You often put me on the frozen lake, under the bridge, and took pictures at the most risky spots. It might never have occurred to you that I could fall into one of those ice holes. I can't tell you how many weekends we stayed in that small room with dim red light to develop our black and white pictures -- from getting the negatives to developing the paper pictures to putting the pictures on a little machine to make them glossy. Even to this day, I still remember the smell of the chemicals for developing pictures... Because of your love for photography, I ended up with so many more childhood pictures than any of my friends, and I have always been very proud of that!
3. Summer memories always lead me to the unforgettable swimming lessons. We always went to the little muddy pond either at Tao Ran Ting or Shi Sha Hai, and I received my first swimming lesson from you when I was about 3 years old. It was scary as hell, but because you loved swimming so much, you definitely wanted to be sure we'd all love swimming... Those swimming sessions are as memorable as sitting in the small red room to develop our pictures.
4. When I was about 10-11, I got sick very often and couldn't go to school, so you ended up spending a lot of time with me at home during that time. I remember you tried very hard to read those famous Chinese novels to me -- Water Margin and Romances of the Three Kingdoms. I was not particularly interested in those stories. But for some reason, you felt it was very valuable for me to know them...
5. In my memory, you were such a great cook. Among other delicious foods you made for us all the time, you made sure that every Chinese New Year's Eve (especially the dinner) was important and special for us. So, Tang Ming and I would go downstairs to play with our friends from the afternoon into early evening. Then we must come home on time for the special dinner. You'd always cook special dishes for us that night -- the traditional southern Chinese foods, and you made sure we had fish at each Chinese New Year's Eve dinner. This tradition lasted for many, many years. After dinner, you'd turn on a high power light bulb and take pictures of us inside the house. I was always fascinated by the fact that you could take such sharp pictures at night... I learned then how important a high power light bulb is for producing high quality pictures.
6. The night photo session during the National Day holiday was another one of our family traditions. During the National Day holiday, when all the lights were lit up on Tian An Men square, you'd take us there, by bike or by bus, to take pictures. I was always scared of the crowds, but you reassured me that everything would be fine. During each shot, I must stand still (without any slight move) in order for you to take sharp pictures...
7. As I grew older, you taught me one valuable lesson -- whenever possible, travel around to see the outside world. You told me this at the end of my high school years, and it had such a profound impact on my life even to this day. I also made sure to take my little Michelle everywhere as she grew up so she also got to see the "outside world."
8. Although you were not very much involved in my daily life when I was little, you got more involved when I got into high school. You did not want me to waste time on doing any housework. The only thing you wanted me to do was to study. You'd carefully prepare every breakfast for me on school days. You wanted to make sure that I ate well every morning before going to school. During my college years, every weekend when I came home, you'd cook my favorite special foods, then cook more for me to take back to school for my friends.
Looking back, I have been in America for 27 years. Dad, I know clearly that, over all these years, you have sacrificed tremendously to support me and my family to have a successful life in this foreign country. I would not have been who I am today without all the efforts you've made to help me in every possible way you can. I truly understand the painful price you’ve paid for us to have a better life. I will forever be thankful for that!
I will never forget all the attention you've given to Michelle for the past 25 years -- you carefully planned many of her birthday parties, you took so many wonderful pictures of her so we could all keep the sweet memories of baby Michelle, you carefully labeled all her favorite toys and dated all her pictures... For the 2 years when she was in China, you kept a detailed notebook on all the important things she did every day. One year, on her birthday, you bought a little cup for her. On the cup, there is a blue sheep, a yellow cow, a red pig and two pieces of puffy clouds... She loved it very much and still does after all these many years. When she went to college, I told her the little cup must safely stay at home -- she agreed. Even to this day, it is still sitting on her bedroom dresser. Michelle knows clearly how much you love her, and she loves you dearly as well. You've had a big influence on her young life, and she will forever carry the memories of the wonderful time she spent with you and Grandma during her childhood years.
In recent years, I have been thinking more about the definition of a "successful life." One day, in our old age, we'd all look back on life and ask ourselves -- have I lived a fulfilled life? What is a "fulfilled and successful" life? To answer that question, I would search my heart and soul to see if I've made an impact on the lives of people I love. In your case, yes, you did make a significant impact on our lives, and you've left a great legacy. That's the most important thing for you to remember and be proud of.
Thank you for everything you've done for me, Dad. I love you, and always will.
Tang Pei
Dear Dad,
I meant to write this letter to you some time much later... However, as I reflect deeper on life, I've decided to write it today so you can read it when I am back to China. I want you to read this letter while your mind is still sharp, because I want you to know how much I love you and how much I appreciate everything you've done for me.
I meant to write this letter to you some time much later... However, as I reflect deeper on life, I've decided to write it today so you can read it when I am back to China. I want you to read this letter while your mind is still sharp, because I want you to know how much I love you and how much I appreciate everything you've done for me.
Like most of the typical fathers in China in the 1970s, you were not deeply involved in my day-to-day life. However, I vividly remember a few things from my childhood:
1. Since I was very little, you had been very strict about how I should hold chopsticks properly. I remember that, for a period of time, at the dinner table, you would correct my way of holding chopsticks each and every time I did it wrong. You may not remember it now, but it's amazing how small things like this could make its way to my deepest memories.
2. Throughout my childhood, I learned first-hand how much you loved photography. Every winter, whenever there was a snowstorm, you'd take me to Tao Ran Ting Park and take all kinds of pictures of me in the snow. You often put me on the frozen lake, under the bridge, and took pictures at the most risky spots. It might never have occurred to you that I could fall into one of those ice holes. I can't tell you how many weekends we stayed in that small room with dim red light to develop our black and white pictures -- from getting the negatives to developing the paper pictures to putting the pictures on a little machine to make them glossy. Even to this day, I still remember the smell of the chemicals for developing pictures... Because of your love for photography, I ended up with so many more childhood pictures than any of my friends, and I have always been very proud of that!
3. Summer memories always lead me to the unforgettable swimming lessons. We always went to the little muddy pond either at Tao Ran Ting or Shi Sha Hai, and I received my first swimming lesson from you when I was about 3 years old. It was scary as hell, but because you loved swimming so much, you definitely wanted to be sure we'd all love swimming... Those swimming sessions are as memorable as sitting in the small red room to develop our pictures.
4. When I was about 10-11, I got sick very often and couldn't go to school, so you ended up spending a lot of time with me at home during that time. I remember you tried very hard to read those famous Chinese novels to me -- Water Margin and Romances of the Three Kingdoms. I was not particularly interested in those stories. But for some reason, you felt it was very valuable for me to know them...
5. In my memory, you were such a great cook. Among other delicious foods you made for us all the time, you made sure that every Chinese New Year's Eve (especially the dinner) was important and special for us. So, Tang Ming and I would go downstairs to play with our friends from the afternoon into early evening. Then we must come home on time for the special dinner. You'd always cook special dishes for us that night -- the traditional southern Chinese foods, and you made sure we had fish at each Chinese New Year's Eve dinner. This tradition lasted for many, many years. After dinner, you'd turn on a high power light bulb and take pictures of us inside the house. I was always fascinated by the fact that you could take such sharp pictures at night... I learned then how important a high power light bulb is for producing high quality pictures.
6. The night photo session during the National Day holiday was another one of our family traditions. During the National Day holiday, when all the lights were lit up on Tian An Men square, you'd take us there, by bike or by bus, to take pictures. I was always scared of the crowds, but you reassured me that everything would be fine. During each shot, I must stand still (without any slight move) in order for you to take sharp pictures...
7. As I grew older, you taught me one valuable lesson -- whenever possible, travel around to see the outside world. You told me this at the end of my high school years, and it had such a profound impact on my life even to this day. I also made sure to take my little Michelle everywhere as she grew up so she also got to see the "outside world."
8. Although you were not very much involved in my daily life when I was little, you got more involved when I got into high school. You did not want me to waste time on doing any housework. The only thing you wanted me to do was to study. You'd carefully prepare every breakfast for me on school days. You wanted to make sure that I ate well every morning before going to school. During my college years, every weekend when I came home, you'd cook my favorite special foods, then cook more for me to take back to school for my friends.
Looking back, I have been in America for 27 years. Dad, I know clearly that, over all these years, you have sacrificed tremendously to support me and my family to have a successful life in this foreign country. I would not have been who I am today without all the efforts you've made to help me in every possible way you can. I truly understand the painful price you’ve paid for us to have a better life. I will forever be thankful for that!
I will never forget all the attention you've given to Michelle for the past 25 years -- you carefully planned many of her birthday parties, you took so many wonderful pictures of her so we could all keep the sweet memories of baby Michelle, you carefully labeled all her favorite toys and dated all her pictures... For the 2 years when she was in China, you kept a detailed notebook on all the important things she did every day. One year, on her birthday, you bought a little cup for her. On the cup, there is a blue sheep, a yellow cow, a red pig and two pieces of puffy clouds... She loved it very much and still does after all these many years. When she went to college, I told her the little cup must safely stay at home -- she agreed. Even to this day, it is still sitting on her bedroom dresser. Michelle knows clearly how much you love her, and she loves you dearly as well. You've had a big influence on her young life, and she will forever carry the memories of the wonderful time she spent with you and Grandma during her childhood years.
In recent years, I have been thinking more about the definition of a "successful life." One day, in our old age, we'd all look back on life and ask ourselves -- have I lived a fulfilled life? What is a "fulfilled and successful" life? To answer that question, I would search my heart and soul to see if I've made an impact on the lives of people I love. In your case, yes, you did make a significant impact on our lives, and you've left a great legacy. That's the most important thing for you to remember and be proud of.
Thank you for everything you've done for me, Dad. I love you, and always will.
Tang Pei
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