I traveled out to San Francisco this past weekend to memorialize a hometown homie, Alex Tung. Our high school group hurried from around the country and across oceans to pay our respects and comfort each other.

The weekend was a surreal mixture of organizing his effects, reminiscing, laughing, crying, meeting new people and sort of celebrating life. I was awe struck by the number of lives he touched in such a relatively short period of time and the things he accomplished.

Alex moved out to California to attend Stanford after high school. He continued on to finish his graduate degree there and soon after embarked on a seemingly endless journey to complete his PhD, which sadly he didn’t before he passed. I always harbored annoyance with the school for dragging it out in light of the situation, though it was finally revealed to those who didn’t know that the school was in fact doing so to support his medical needs…. in light of the situation. I’m comforted that he knew the task was complete in spirit.  This is so characteristic of the sorts of things people were willing to do for him. The degree was awarded posthumously within a day or two, facilitated by those who loved him, and it’s my understanding that the school will be naming a lab after him – Dr. Alex Tzu-Jay Tung.

The service was held in Half Moon Bay, on the bluffs. I guess it’s a spot well known for high winds and damp weather but the day was warm and sunny with a gentle ocean breeze. An extremely large group of friends and family sat on blankets as folks got up to tell stories and play music. I’m afraid I wasn’t able to come up with any words to comfort his mother, so I just hugged her for a while as she whispered ‘so sad’. I have no idea. I wish I had been more instrumental in saying goodbye.  We lingered for a while after the ceremony ended. I felt personally as though if I left then I really had to say goodbye and I didn’t know how. We did all eventually move on to have lunch at a nearby house in the bay. Then as a hometown unit we moved by ourselves down to the beach where we undressed and ran into the ocean, as we did when we were younger. Sometimes in the middle of the night we would rush to the shore and dive in, then hop back in the car and rush home by dawn. The sense that Alex was missing was overwhelming at times. Other times it felt like maybe he wasn’t able to fly out – our brains incapable of really understanding what’s happened.  We moved to another, even more spectacular beach and watched the sun set. It felt strange to enjoy ourselves and our company despite the loss but I suppose that’s part of the process.

It was fittingly overcast and drizzly the next day as most of us left to return to our lives. Maybe with renewed vigor to make more of ourselves. I read over on Dr. Alex’s (Dralex to us) blog that his friend Blase has set about organizing his own effects in a way that we joked Alex didn’t. He was affectionately referred to as a pack rat on multiple occassions as we sorted and moved boxes of stuff. I’ll have to think about what it is I might set out to do. There’s so much. 🙂

When he and Tom finished their last song together during the memorial, Jeff took a fortifying breath and exhaled, ‘We love you, Alex’. That, and goodbye are pretty much all I think I have left to say.  At least via this silly blog.

So I realize that riding 50 miles for cancer research isn’t exactly pushing myself to the limit and I’m starting to feel guilty about not doing the 100 mile variant. But we can try that next time and I think the point is more so that I do something rather than nothing to fight this thing that took my friend. At first I was kind of just riding to ride, and if I raised a little money for research that was cool.  Now I’m riding for Alex.  So again, if you’d like to help me do something…. please go here.  I intend to make this a yearly event barring any serious conflicts so while I’ll probably be a lot less angry about it, I’ll be asking for support again next year.  Thanks to everyone who has contributed so far.  I’m really pleased with our progress but I’ll probably send out some gentle reminders between now and the ride to try to keep things moving.  I do apologize a little for getting angry before.  Or rather, directing my anger at others.  I understand this isn’t personal for everyone, but even if it’s not I hope you can spare a few seconds and donate $5.