As I was holding the casket where Uncle Onward lay, I knew this was the last time I would be so close to him. An hour earlier I was standing two feet from his body in the casket. He was much thinner than before, having lost 20+ lbs. before he died, and he looked more like the days in the 1940's, when he was the tallest of all our uncles, and he would lift me up to 8 ft. above ground, and touch the ceiling lamp above.
His was an assertive personality, with strong opinions on things, but usually he is right. He never had a disapproving word about me, all through my life. It was he that brought me back from Death's door several times in my childhood, when I often had bouts of malaria and high fever. When he removed my tonsils, I almost died, because it was a difficult operation. Of course it was God's grace that kept me alive, and Uncle Onward was His instrument of grace.
His life had not been easy. A tight-fisted mother gave him pittance as allowance even when he went to Medical School in HKU from 1937 to 1940. His stories of those days were always from a humorous angle. He told me how my 5th aunt fell in love, how my 6th uncle fell for the schemes of a girl in his school, a daughter of another pastor Wong, and, eventually, how even my father got introduced to my mother. From him I learned quite a bit about the personalities of my grandma and grandpa.
When I went to HKU in 1959, I lived in the same dorm where old photos still showed him as dorm chairman, as well as photos of 6-th uncle and 4-th uncle.
Strangely enough, I remember him fondling me before he left for China in 1942, after the Japanese occupying HK. I was one year old during Pearl Harbor attack, Dec. 1941. I had some bad memories of him sticking the needle on my thighs.
A story about Peter Szeto, Uncle Onward's father: He was a railroad engineer, educated in America and came back to China and built part of the Canton-Wuhan Railway. Uncle Onward's mother was lucky enough to be educated in English, and she rejected more than one suiters, because she wanted to marry "a Chinese American also knowing English, and a Christian believer." With this she rejected the offer of marriage to the son of the historically-first famous railroad engineer of modern China, Mr Jarn Tian Yow, also educated in USA. Jarn was a prestigious man, head of the Department of Railroad of the Chinese Empire, and such a rejection of his offer caused him ire enough to subsequently assign Peter Szeto to build the portion of the Canton-Wuhan Railway that was most difficult, in some rugged mountain terrain.
After Uncle Onward and Aunt Elsie left HK for China, they had to run from the Japanese off and on, during WWII. So he was in XiangTan of Hunan province working as a doctor for a while, then later on went to Guiyang and Kunming in west China later. Those were tough times. At Guiyang he was down to his last pennies, eating their last meal, when God sent in a timely help, via an American doctor asking him to work somewhere with their organization. Once Simon, as a toddler, grabbed a boiling pot of hot water on the breakfast table. The boiling water was over his chin and chest. They had to hurry on to a truck for the trip, and could hardly pay attention to the poor boy. By God's providence, the thick quilted vest protected much scalding of his chest, and saved his life. But his chin and neck were scarred permanently for life.
While they were in Guiyang, Uncle Onward's father, Peter Szeto, had diarrhoea in Hunan and died, due to lack of medical facilities, and Uncle Onward was thereafter stricken with much remorse and guilt feelings for years.
After Japan surrendered, they came back to HK in 1945, for a short time they stayed in my house, Simon was 3 and Cathy was a little doll-like babygirl. I loved to see her sucking milk.
Later on they lived in an apartment close to Kowloon Hospital, and I remember it was the last house of a street, may be Waterloo Rd., but I remember nothing about its interior. Except one thing: several times a day a train will pass by, with impressive rumbling noises, and Simon will cry if he misses the chance of running out to the balcony and watch it pass by. They say he had inherited this engineering mind and quest for science and technology from his grandfather, Peter Szeto.
During my high school years, God blessed the medical practice of Uncle. His clinic was at Nathan Road in Yaumati area, right at the hubbub of things. The clinic was crowded with patients from mornings till evenings. Many a time I went there for shots and treatment of sore throats and fever. Got to know the two nurses and the pharmacist whom he emplyed They were very kind hearted young men and women in their twenties.
Kowloon Bus Co., with hundreds of busses running over Kowloon and the New Territories, recognized Uncle's kind reputation, and would send their new and old bus-drivers or bus-conductors to him for medical checkup and certification. Some young man, an applicant, jobless, and freshly out of China, could not pass Uncle's test, because of tuberculosis. The young man was so desperate for a job that he grabbed into his pocket, and gave Uncle all he had: a $5 HK dollar bill (about 60 cents US), hoping to bribe a Pass-mark from Uncle. Uncle Onward shirked, chided him, and the young man left pale-faced and sad. But he was very sad afterwards, seeing that he could not help a fellow human being so obviously in destitute need. Often he would charge very low fees for some patients.
Uncle usually had great successes at the surgical table, and had miraculously saved quite a few lives. The patients waiting room had the walls hung with long mirrors on which were etched beautiful Chinese caligraphy, like "Wan Ngor Hor Saan" (he restored my mountains and streams), "Yun Sum Yun Suet" (kind heart and kind skill), "Yee See Jee See" (master of all physicians), even some 200 character essay of how the Doctor had rescued the person from a life of misery on the verge of death, etc. (I might have mixed in my memories of the patients room of 4-th uncle, who was also a doctor on the Hong Kong side.)
Aunt Elsie was very active at the Kowloon Rheinish Church, being counsellor to their youth groups. Their house at 7 Norfolk Rd. was a two-storied house with servant quarters and front and side yards. The young people of that church would often had parties there. They also had relatives living with them much of the time, such as Uncle's mother, and some cousins. One auntie, Miss JeeLan even taught piano lessons at their house.
The Communists prevented his sister Lai Ming to come to HK. She was permitted to practice medicine in Yinchuan near the Gobi Desert, but suffered much because she would not abandon the Christian faith. Eventually she got married. In HK there was a big party at Uncle's home, many tables, relatives, guests, medical friends, etc. I could sense the great joy in him. It was many years later before Aunt Lai Ming finally came to America in the 1980's.
Many times I would come to their nice house. I would listen to his LP records, all the 9 symphonies of Beethoven, conducted by Arturo Toscanini, plus some piano performances by Arthur Rubinstein or Entremont. I would play with Simon, kicking ball, or game of monopoly, etc. Julia was usually lovely and pretty with a red head band around her lovely hair. Cathy likes to talk with me, and Ken and William I did not have much impression of, because I was in HKU by the time they were growing up.
It is good to hear from cousin William how Uncle departed from this world. He dictated some details to Cathy about the funeral, such as "everyone should wear black". That showed he was ready to meet the Lord. Then he wanted William to read the Bible to him. At the last hour, William was called to his side by the nurse, and he lovingly gazed at William, then gazed upwards, and closed his eyes. William began to read some chapter of the Bible, he fell into a slumber, and his heart-beat stopped some time later. William felt that his soul departed restfully when he closed his eyes. It was a precious experience for William, to see his father go so peacefully. What a way to go, feeling no remorse, no fear, only a restful certainty he will meet his loved ones on the other shore.