One Year

Celebration of Life - Jessica Chan
by Elton Chan (February 12, 2012)

I was 13, and I still remember that day when I first laid my eyes on my dearest Jessica on the track field of my high school.  She was talking with some mutual friends, and I watched her as she was the center of attention, with this wonderful infectious smile, making sarcastic and witty comments that were making everyone laugh like she always did.  Her bundle of energy drew me in and that was how I developed my first high school crush.  Not too long after that day, I was fortunate to have courted her to be my girlfriend, despite the many advances by many other suitors.  She would always remind me that there were better looking candidates with better personalities, but picked me because she felt sorry for me.

In high school, we were inseparable.  We would spend our lunches together, meet up after school, go home, have dinner, and talk for hours again on the phone until we were tired and ready to sleep for the night so we can do it all over again the next day.  Our calls would always end with me hanging up first as she wanted to know for certain that our night was over and was also comforted by the sound of the click, to signify I was resting peacefully for the night.   With all the time we spent with each other, it’s surprising that we were able to graduate with honours but she was a great student, popular in her class and adored by her teachers.  She was selected to be the manager of the school store, a much sought after position because of  the big responsibility and prestige it carried,  but would have require somebody who was mature,  organized, committed, and more importantly, trusted – Jessica was an obvious choice.  As a couple, we were fortunate to share so many memorable teenage moments –secret parties at her home, tasting our first sip of alcohol, cramming for exams, getting our first driver’s license, our first job, and most importantly, graduation.   

And because we thought we should spend more time with each other, we both attended UBC, car pooled there and back, 45 minutes each way every day, enrolled in the same faculty, with the exact same classes.  We would also spend countless hours listening to music from our favourite artists, singing along, carefully selecting the right songs for a mixtape for our drives to school or our weekend outings while debating for hours over the meaning of the lyrics.  She loved being silly and would always make me laugh when a cute little Asian girl with a pony tail starts rapping word-for-word Mama Said Knock You Out or Let Your Backbone Slide with authority.  And if we weren’t listening to music, we were passionate about our movies, whether it be a quiet evening at home cuddling on the couch, going to the theater, or lining up outside for hours attending the film festival.  And over the past 22 years, libraries of movies have been viewed, countless songs have been heard, claiming many to be ours, each associated with a special moment or memory from our past.  

Our university years was a time when we were coming of age, care-free, maturing, and exploring this new world around us. We learned more about ourselves, about each other and excited to share our stories and experiences each day.   Often at this stage in their life, people try to find themselves, but often are alone, confused, and spiral out of control.  But we were fortunate to have each other, to cover each other’s back, support each other through tough decisions and difficult times and make sure we were set on the right path.  I remember when I wanted to drop out of my business degree from UBC so that I could pursue an opportunity to explore my passion in computer graphics and film, many thought I was crazy and foolish - begging me to reconsider.   But Jess encouraged me to chase my dreams, to be happy, and supported me every step of the way. 

In 2000, Jess went backpacking all over Europe with her friend Lillian for 5 weeks.  It was an important event in her life not because she had just graduated from university but because it was her first big vacation on her own and she had paid for it all by herself….it marked the beginning of her independence and the vacation she so-deserved before she entered the workforce as a full time teacher.  The trip was a turning point as it opened her eyes to the world of how much more there was beyond Vancouver, and she embraced the differences in the people she met, the food she ate, and the culture she experienced.  She caught the travel bug quick and in subsequent years, we travelled the world together, even though she dreaded taking the plane rides, trains, boats, or long drives that’s normally required for these trips.   Jess is notorious for being ill, getting motion or altitude sickness and the golden rule when travelling with her is No Talking and No Touching.  But that never stopped her from travelling, even if it meant enduring a 21 hour flight, while pregnant, laying across two jump seats to get to Australia.  To her, it was a small price to pay to reach her paradise.

Many people don’t realize how athletic and coordinated Jessica was.  I played basketball for most of my years and stood a foot taller, but Jess would often beat me in a game of 21 and then I would face a barrage of trash talk from her afterwards.  She was an avid volleyball player, who despite her vertical challenges, consistently amazed people with her ability to spike a ball and make a kill.   It would also be embarrassing for me to play pass with a football with her in public parks as she could throw a spiral better and further than I can.  The joke amongst some of our friends when they see Aidan so coordinated and athletic is that he has HER genes instead of mine. 

Though small in stature, she was tough and rejected the stereotype of what a woman should or shouldn’t do.  In our car rides, SHE drives.  When we were renovating our townhome, she had ME do the measuring while SHE did all the cutting of the tiles on the power saw.  And when we were putting up our baseboards, she had me hold onto the boards so she can shoot away with the nail gun. 

She was intelligent, witty and had a great sense of humour.  For anyone here who had spent any time with her, I’m sure at one point or another she had thrown in a joke to burn you.  She was reliable – someone who gets things done efficiently and quickly.  Honest, with no hidden agendas and possessed a great deal of integrity.  She hated to break commitments or promises and expected the same from others.  I always admired her ability to connect with new people, how she is able to make them feel comfortable and talk like they’re old buddies who have known each other for years.  She was incredibly loyal to her friends and family, loving them unconditionally.  I asked her in October during the time of the fundraiser how she would feel if some of the people she expected to attend didn’t show, and she replied “a lifetime of friendship isn’t measured by one evening or one moment.  They’re still my friends regardless”.  And for that reason, she loved hosting and organizing many of our family and friend’s gathering at our home, the person who always tied everybody together, ensuring everyone was included and having a great time.

Her commitment to her friends carried over as a partner and wife.  She was never comfortable expressing her feelings, but justified it by saying she demonstrated her love to me by her actions.  And that was true.  She was my soul mate who took very good care of me over the years, looking out for my best interest, often showering me with gifts and spoiling me with her great traditional Chinese home cooking.  She accepted my flaws, and made me a better person.  She taught me to not live my life too seriously, to be thick skinned and to not take criticisms personally.    She taught me that trust, open communication and compromise was the foundation of a solid relationship and that was what made ours so successful.  I am forever grateful for having her when my father passed away ten years ago as she was a rock for me and my family.  And when I was unhappy with my career and told her I wanted a change, she was the same old Jess, supporting me as she always did and told me to follow my gut instincts.  She was right as usual as that decision provided me the opportunity to be by Jess’ side during these past 15 months.

When we had our first born Aidan, transitioning to motherhood came natural for her.  She always had that maternal and nurturing quality who was just fabulous with kids.  She had all the solutions and always had the right balance of not overly coddling and spoiling our boys, while fostering their growth, emphasizing on the value of hard work, respect for others and being independent problem solvers.  The boys were her pride and joy, and the love she had for them was pure adoration.  She loved spending time with them, often taking photos or videos to capture those precious moments of their lives.  She would then make them a gift in a form of a photo book or slideshow for us to watch as a family, to celebrate their life and to show how important they are to us.  I credit her for the magnificent individuals Aidan and Liam are today and grateful that she was able to provide me the tools to continue her great work.

After being with Jessica for the better part of my life, I thought there was nothing more that I could discover about her that I hadn’t known already.  But in the last 15 months, faced with so much adversity and uncertainty, I had witnessed such astonishing determination, strength and courage that I am so proud and privileged to have had Jessica as my wife.   She did all that was asked of her, putting her trust in her doctors and her faith, while never once complaining or offering herself any self-pity.  She refused to allow anything to slow her down, continuing to fight each day and was driven to live the life as she had always known it to be.  Despite her challenges, she focussed her energy on being grateful and how things could be a lot worse – always with the mentality of a glass half full.  And she was able to retain her sense of humour to the very end.  One night at the hospital in an emotional moment by her bedside, I poured my heart out to her, told her how much she meant to me, and recalled the many events in our life I cherished the most.  When I was done, she looked at me with a smile, reached her hand out to touch my head , patted it twice and said, “Thanks hon.  Now… can you get me some chicken soup”?

I am lucky to have spent 22 years with such an amazing and special person, watching her grow, marrying my high school sweetheart, sharing so many memorable moments, building a home together and having a piece of her in the form of our two wonderful boys.  I am fortunate because some people can live a full lifetime and never experience that much joy and happiness.

And though I may never fully understand why, I believe her journey in the last 15 months was very much like her vacations.  She had to battle through some motion sickness but upon her arrival, she’s just happy to have reached her paradise.