Gong Gong (1915 - 2008)

I wanted to take up a little bit of space on our blog to pay tribute to my grandfather, Shou Chuan Tao, whom I've always known simply as "Gong Gong." He passed away this afternoon. He was 93 years old.

There are, of course, the facts of his life: Born in China on October 7, 1915. Met and married my grandmother. Raised four children. Worked as an accountant. Escaped to Taiwan during the communist take-over of the mainland. Immigrated to the U.S. upon retirement. Lived with my family in St. Louis for many years. Helped take care of me after school. Finally settled down in Los Angeles.

But those are just things he "did." What made Gong Gong special - and what I will always remember him for - was the force of his personality, which he had in abundance.

He was a man of impressive vocal range. The original source of the "Tao Loud Voice" (which several of his children and grandchildren have inherited), Gong Gong could be heard a block away belting out "Yi er san si! Er er san si! San er san si!" on our front porch during his morning tai chi routine. If he didn't want us to do something, he would wave his hands and bellow, "Lo! Lo! Lo! Lo!" (his attempt at pronouncing "No"). And whenever he got excited, he would shout, "Me ter me ter chang!" I still have no idea what that means, but I associate it with a big grin on his face. In contrast, in more recent years, when I would visit he would hold my hand, saying quietly, "Eu Eu lai la" (Eunice has come to visit), and we would sit next to each other in companionable silence for hours. This is an equally precious memory to me.

Gong Gong was a man of great dignity. Even in his later years when it was quite painful for him to move around, if he heard I was coming to visit, he would spend several hours putting on a suit and tie so he would look presentable for the photos he knew I would inevitably take. Of course, being "dignified" involved not showing his teeth in photos, so I had to devise crafty ways to catch him smiling after he thought the photo session was over. :)

He cared about my well-being. No visit would go by without Gong Gong telling me I wasn't wearing enough layers (even during an LA heat wave), that it was dangerous to drive at night, that I shouldn't talk to strangers, that I should eat more vegetables, that I should guard my wallet while traveling... Most of the time, I could only understand a few words of what he was saying because of his thick Hu Bei accent, but the fact that he cared about me was clear.

Gong Gong was a man of special talents. Despite being a traditional (i.e., non-cooking) Chinese man, he somehow knew how to make the best scallion pancakes I've ever tasted. He also had an incredible green thumb. Growing up , it always struck me as odd that such a loud, forceful man could find so much pleasure quietly watering and nurturing plants. I think he loved the daily discipline that gardening requires and took great joy in watching things grow. Even when he moved to an apartment and no longer had a yard, he filled his balcony with plants of all colors and sizes. Last but not least, he is the only person I ever met who could out-nap me. No surprise since I'm sure I inherited my impressive talent to nap anywhere, anytime from him. :)

What I appreciate the most about Gong Gong, however, is that he welcomed my husband with open arms, despite huge cultural barriers. The first time Ryan and I visited him as a couple, he studied an English script for days before our arrival so that he could shake Ryan's hand and say, "Hello. Sorry, my English is not very good. You are welcome in my home. Come sit." Gong Gong then put Ryan through several tests of strength, including one which involved Ryan trying to push him over. He even taught Ryan some of his favorite circulation exercises (tapping the top of his head with his fingertips and hitting his thighs with a balled up fist). And in the end, he honored Ryan by choosing a wonderful Chinese name for him: "Ni Rei En" (which means good fortune and blessings).

When I look back, it is clear that Gong Gong influenced the course of my life. He and my grandmother made it possible for me to have a safe, caring place to go home to after school every day, and I had countless opportunities to hear stories and lessons from his life back in China and Taiwan. It is no coincidence that I have spent the last eight years working at Experience Corps, a non-profit connecting older adults as tutors and mentors to children; and it is no coincidence that I have such a strong desire for my own children to know and love their grandparents.

In writing this blog, I looked back at the photos we have taken of Gong Gong over the last decade and put together a slide show of some of my favorites, including a video clip of Gong Gong holding Spencer at 8 months old. I hope these are images that Spencer and Tyler will treasure when they are old enough to listen to the many stories I have about their great-grandpa.

Gong Gong lived loud, and died loud - never afraid to speak his mind. I will always remember him as a spirited man of great strength and great love for his grandchildren.

Click here for the slide show and videos.