In February 2014, I lost my dear friend and mentor Youngki Chang to cancer. He was only 28 years old at the time of his death. I was 25.
I wanted to put together this post last month but the challenge of looking after Brandon all day long while supporting my mother in law who has recently moved into my house has made it really hard to keep up with blogging.
I met Youngki at Unversity of Waterloo. I was moving into a new residence on campus and saw someone carrying a box of Shin Ramen on the moving day. I thought he must be Korean, so I walked up to him and said hello. We became friends after that.
He was very much like me except he was 10x smarter and more mature. He had worked at Google during its early days. He had big tech companies begging him to come after graduating from school. He was well traveled. He interned in Japan for a year and became fluent in Japanese. He was driven and had the ambition to solve a big problem as a tech entrepreneur. Yet, he was one of the most humble individuals I have come across. I was lucky to call him my friend and mentor.
During my last week in Toronto before moving to the US, he took me out to dinner. At the end of the dinner, he told me he was going to see a dentist. When asked why, he told me to look at his face. I did and noticed one side of his chin was swollen quite a bit. We both didn’t think it was a big deal and said bye. He wished me good luck with my new beginning in New York.
Neither of us had the slightest clue that that moment was going to be our very last interaction. What I saw that day was a tumor.
His cancer was one of the rare types that have no known causes. I still don’t understand why his life was taken at such a young age. He was engaged at the time of his diagnosis and he passed away about 1 year later. His wedding never took place. He never got to fully reach his potential and make a dent in the world.
Whenever I am faced with a difficult life decision, I wonder what advice he would have for me if he was around. If I am given one year to live, what decisions would I make? His death is a strong reminder of how fragile our life is and how important it is to cherish each moment in our life.
This ties in well with the key message from a recent podcast episode I listened to. The interviewee says the reason he was able to accomplish so much and find happiness was because he stayed in tune with what his body tells him to do. He pays attention to how he feels and is ruthless about taking actions that are consistent with his feelings. It’s easier said than done. For example, how many people hesitate to quit a job that they said they are going to quit?
Meditation is one way to increase the awareness of our feeling. But if meditation sounds too complex, working with the idea that you have limited time left in your life is another way to bring clarity to what your heart and body desires and prioritize that over what our brain says.
Youngki and I lost touch after our last dinner, but I heard he was scared as his death was imminent. He was scared that he would be forgotten.
This blog post is my message to the universe or wherever he is right now that I haven’t forgotten him. It was my blessing that our paths crossed and I got to know him during his brief time in this world.
I will end my post with a link to Youngki’s own blog entry about his cancer journey.
Rest in peace my friend.
