EPTMy uncle was the second eldest child out of five, and the oldest son. He grew up in Hong Kong, and has vivid memories of his time spent growing up there. Sometime during his high school years, maybe 1960s?, he emigrated to Canada. I guess he was not a particularly outstanding student, and envisioned much greater opportunities for his family in Canada versus staying in Hong Kong. He came alone, entered university (I think he went to U of T), and applied for the rest of his family for residency status in Canada. My dad was the second to come, and together they braved the adventures of this new world. They spent time working at a restaurant to make money, while attending school.
He graduated, I think, then proceeded to do lab work in microbiology. He might have done clinical or research, I am not too sure. He dealt with fecal bacteria and excretory samples, something which he quickly grew to hate. Eventually he moved from a small town to the suburbs of Toronto, buying a house, and uniting the rest of the family in this house. All his siblings and his parents followed his path to relocate to Canada, off the back of his work in applying for citizenship. Evidently, he was involved with a white girl at some point, but things didn’t turn out and he has not been able to find a girl to love.
As his siblings moved on with their lives, building families and careers off their Canadian education, my uncle found it difficult to continue with this laboratory work. At some point he was either dismissed or quit. My dad, a pharmacist, opened up his own store, and my uncle stepped in to take a role and help in this aspect.
He has since remained in this role, taking care of bookkeeping, administrative things, and delivery. In actuality, it is a pretty demeaning role, and he works maybe 20 hours a week. Phrased meanly, it could be said he’s leeching off the success of my dad. No one acknowledges this in the open, because we are fine with the arrangement. It is quite apparent he is not entirely proud of this set-up himself. A man has his own pride, but it looks like for my uncle, he has given much of it up.
So what kind of situation is he in now? He’s nearly 60, never married, no kids. He owns lives in that very same house he bought many years ago that housed much of his family here in Canada. He doesn’t have much money, living off whatever income my father supplies him (I don’t know the details). His house is an absolute mess. One of his more eminent past-times is changing the floorboards in his home, a project he has been undertaking for 3 years and counting. He clears up a small bit of space at a time, because he has too much junk in the way, and installs his floorboards. He has few, if any, friends. Put harshly, in the minds of many, he would be a loser.
He talks loudly, above the comfort level of most people. He has interests in electronics. Sometimes, he gets in disputes with my father, but he knows he must be the one to back down. He gets on the nerves of pretty much everyone. He is extremely paranoid. My uncle offers constant reminders such as: don’t walk with your hands in your pockets, don’t tilt your chair back, don’t run on ice, don’t drive in a storm, drive slow in snow, get your oil changed, change your air filter, etc. He will continue repeating the same warnings despite your pleas for him to stop. He means well, but people invariably get impatient. His nature is very responsible and good-hearted.
He eats most meals by himself, many of them at the local McDonalds. His paranoia has consumed his thoughts. He is constantly afraid of thieves and criminals. He dresses extremely frugally to ward off attention to any signs of wealth. He has installed security cameras in his own home. My uncle claims that someone is entering his house, moving his things, and he is determined to find out who. No one takes him seriously.
Now that I have reached a level of maturity, he is able to connect with me more than before, and treat me like an adult. I have very high patience, and thus am able to withstand his barrage of annoyances most others avoid. The man needs a friend, and I want to provide it for him. It is clear my uncle is depressed, and has been for many, many years. I wonder what it is that keeps him going. He once told me that after he died, he would not like to be buried; instead, he’d like to be cremated, and his ashes scattered into the ocean. I did not understand when I first heard it, but now I fully understand his sentiment. “I’ve had enough – I’m leaving this place.”
Alone, depressed, poor, questionable mental health, bald, aging, his pride trampled. Someone who sacrificed it all to get here, to bring his family over with him, and now to see his largely successful siblings enjoy their success. We were both born in the year of the dragon , and I see a lot of myself in him. I hope I don’t end up like him. I really wish I could do something to show him a pat on the back, to become someone for him to talk to. I find his story to be quite tragic, with many unknown details I am simply unaware of. As memories fade and time erases the tracks, putting it in writing preserves his story.
