Uncle Michael & Uncle Sonny

Michael Lee sent this very apt poem for us in honour of Jon;

“Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamonds glints on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle Autumn rain
When you awaken in the morning, Hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds' encircled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there. I did not die.”
~ Author Unknown ~

And Uncle Sonny was the person who introduced us to The Race, now consoles us with;

The Final Race

Cry your tears of sorrow,
Then lay your tears aside;
Don't weep for me forever,
Nor in your sorrow hide.

For I am more alive today,
Than I ever was before;
I am just one heartbeat from you,
On the other side of the door.

To a new life full and free;
Because of Christ,
I've run the race,
And now have victory.

So don't stand there and weep for me,
My battle now is won;
Pick up your helmet, sword and shield,
You have a race to run.

- Allison Chambers Coxsey -

Janet's Memories

Our dear and close friend Janet observed from a distance the life of Jon and calls it

16 Glorious Years

Late last night (9th August 2006), I received news that a brave young man Jonathan Gan aged 16, had passed away after battling cancerous brain tumours.

My husand and I went immediately to his home, and once we were there, I just sat in silence. Words failed me. I just could not speak. His parents are my dearest friends, Peter and Agnes, and I cannot imagine what they must be going through.

As for me, I had memories flooding my head. A series of flashbacks...

Read more;

16 Glorious Years

Arohanui

For Jonathan…..
My darling nephew, at the other end of the world, 5000 miles away, in New Zealand, it is winter. Although there is no snow in Auckland, there is definitely cold and fog and rain and frost…
Some days, it is very hard to remember what it is like to be warm and to feel the sun. Some people here suffer from a kind of depression, in winter months, that the doctors call “Seasonal Affective Disorder” or “SAD”.
And today, I was feeling very sad, not because of the weather, but because you have left us...
I was crying because I do remember you, Jonathan.

I met you when I was visiting Malaysia in the year 2000. I remember your gentle smile and your quiet ways. You were asking about the way things were when your mother and the rest of us oldies were young. You enjoyed listening to the stories and were curious to know more. Your bright eyes were watching me from behind your glasses. You seemed much older than your years. And maybe you were.
Your mother tells me you wanted to visit us in New Zealand. Well, now you can come and go anytime, can’t you?
And I believe I might have seen you today…
I was out in the cold and wet garden when I noticed some new green shoots of the earlicheer and jonquils I planted years ago. Their leaves were pushing up from among the weeds and dead leaves. And then, I saw you….one single beautiful daffodil by the letterbox. One brave golden little yellow flower with the shy and nodding head.
I cried. Then, I laughed.
That first daffodil reminded me that this winter too, shall pass. It reminded me that all is not lost, that the cold and wet days will not last. And that, with the passing days, the sun will grow strong again and that spring and then summer will surely come….very soon, around the next corner.
Jon, I do not know if it was you with me today but is does not matter.
I know you are in a far better and warmer place now. Why else would you have left all those who love and cherish you so much - your mother, your father, Zane and Summer, your cousins, aunties, uncles, grandmother, all the family and friends? Yes, that place must be miles better because you are a smart kid, and you would have chosen wisely.
But, all the same, I feel sad for me. I feel sad because I would have loved to have my family meet and get to know you. They would have loved you. And you would have loved them back.
Jon, I will remember you as I watch the cold winter days grow shorter…
I will remember you as I watch the first greening of the spring flowers…
I will remember you as I see that daffodil by my letterbox turn its face to follow the sun….
And long after this winter is gone, I will remember you each and every time I talk with your mum or any one of those who knew you because they will continue to bear witness to, and celebrate your life and your living. You will live on in those who love and treasure you, those who will surely miss you. In that way, you will live on for, in and through all of us.
So, my beloved nephew, pass gently and bravely into that winter then, for we will surely see you again when the spring comes around.
And until that day we meet again, as we say it in New Zealand:

“A-ro-ha-nui” - All our love, and
“Ha-e-re ra, ha-e-re ra, ha-e-re ra!” – farewell, farewell, fare thee well!

from your uncle Jack, your cousins Jason, Sarah and Bennett, and auntie Tess.

'All Things to All People'

Godma Ann's eulogy


There are many things I want to say…

But I do want to say first that I am Jon’s godmother. I am also, thank God and my lucky stars, Zane and Summer’s godmother too. I love all these three, equally and shamelessly…I have often thought how unfair this situation is. I mean, Agnes (and Peter) chose me, but Jon, Zane and Summer never had any choice in the matter. They did though have choice with Godma Hanim. So we stand here before you as ‘Godma Appointed’ and ‘Godma Democratically Elected’!

But what does Godmother mean in this day and age? Jon asked me once when he was much younger, and I told him I was responsible to help in his religious upbringing (not that I am particularly well-qualified) but that this was a traditional role. In my mind, my job is to keep any eye out on them, and be there as and when needed. ‘So you’re like a standby Mum’, said Jon, and then he added, ‘but I don't think a true Mum can be just standby’.

Like many of you, I was often surprised by how bright Jon was. In every sense of the word… I know he reads a lot, but we never really got beyond ‘so how boring was school today’ until comparatively recently. We could talk music, soccer, politics and even girls…

It is something very special and unique to have the love and trust of a 15 or 16-year old boy. I mean, a boy is in the thick of challenges at that time. Especially Jon – that is, he was my glimpse into what can make a man at that time. I remember many things about him, like the challenge of going from Kuan Cheng (where to me he was the geeky prefect dude) to VI when he had to prove himself again and in so doing strike the fire to see for himself what kind of man he was.

I miss his SMS messages, just asking what I was up to, and to call him because he was bored, or because he just wanted to hear my voice, or what I thought of a song he’d just downloaded.

Sometimes, I didn't know how to talk with him because he was such a strange and delightful creature – I mean, to me, a 16 year old boy has better things to do than talk to his Godma and see how she’s doing. But that was Jon.

Of course, what occurs to me now, having heard all this beautiful testimony, is how this boy managed to be ‘all things to all people’…he has managed to charm us, so charm us so that in this season of grief we have so much, so many memories to help us weather this time.

I want to thank the family Gan and the family Liew for this wonderful position of Godma. I recommend it – you get to breeze in and out, bearing gifts, not there for the regular rigour and tedium of each day, but you get showered with love and affection.

I am here and I thank God for Jon, and so many things I am unable to speak of right now. I am also here for his brother and sister too.

To my dear godson who was all things to all people…May you just fly, my darling. And see you later, insyallah.

Gone Too Soon?

What can you say about a sixteen year old who loved the Beatles, the Boys Scouts movement, chicken rice, Elvis, Frank Sinatra, girls, Liverpool, life, U2, people and his mother,...who left us behind?
That he was Purposeful. Intuitive. A Realist. A Hopeless romantic? Or just simply gone too soon...

Continue reading,

Gone Too Soon

Mandy's tribute to Jon

Like a cool summer breeze, this prolific writer, hits the right notes with her refreshing posts honouring Jon.
Mandy you came and you gave without taking....

See it here;

Celebrating Jon

Jon Transcendant

On Wednesday, 9th August 2006, Jon returned to the Source, and took his place amongst the Pantheon. He is not lost to us, merely beyond our vision. Look up to the stars on a clear night and you may see him there, watching over us, protecting us, loving us. For this compassionate, powerful and loving spirit has found a calling that most of us merely dream of; to be an angel, in life, in death, and evermore.

We love you Jon. It was an honour.

Jon¹s Ascension

by Vincent Guo Guo
So deep and so profound his feelings for Jon that I had to force him to deliver it at the eulogy session on Friday night and now publish this for all to see.


He came
Tall so he could see the earth's expanse
Like a giant in the company of men
Slender so he would not eclipse
Those who trod the on lower ground
Mighty so he could shield the helpless
From the ravages of hatred and injustice
Unfettered that he might set free
Those bound by oppression and ignorance
And tender, for he knew the hardest of shells
Sought only to protect the softest of hearts.

He saw
Life through his own pure spectrum
Faith in the faces of the faithless
Peace where only conflict could be found
Justice, whose blindness was his vision
Warmth in the bleakest hearts of winter
Poetry in the taunts of the alienated
Joy, even when only sadness remained
Honesty in the words of tricksters
Wisdom in the acts of fools and traitors
And Love, unconditional, uncompromising.

He conquered
Fear, with his sword of shining courage
Pain, for he gave it no power
Longing, his being naked in completeness
Loneliness, because he never walked alone
Misery, for his tears were only of joy
Anger, subdued by his compassion
Hatred, for what man has time for hate?
Prejudice, for in diversity he thrived
Time, though it waits for none and nothing
And Death, for in our hearts, he is Immortal.