Overseas Chinese Democracy Coalition News and Article Release Issue: A39-G14
Release Date: November 20, 2003
Topic: In Memorial of my Father (Ciping Huang's diary on November 20, 2003)
标题:悼父祭文 (黄慈萍日记:2003年11月20日)



In Memorial of My Father (Ciping Huang's diary on November 20, 2003)

It has been a busy and tiring day. Nevertheless, I want to write down something for today. The third anniversary of daddy's departure has come.

Yesterday, I was too busy to write down anything, or even eat lunch. But the evening was occupied by dining treated by friends then coming back to work on the long overdue newsletters until about 2am. Ate too much to stay awake. I guess I must be one of the most weird animals in its food consumption living on this world - covering the whole spectrum of possible food from the state level banquets, to (like the old time monks) a lot of free meals and dinners offered by all sorts of people when I was with Wei Jingsheng, down to 12 cents a bag instant noodle. Much more instant noodles. I surely miss my good old days when I was on business trips for American companies, to eat whatever I wanted, and to do whatever I wanted.

I got up very early to take care of the newsletters' distribution and also prepare for foundation's board meeting. I also called mom and sister to make sure they are ok. Mom asked again: "Will you be able to come home for a visit?" I answered: "Of course." She asked: "When?" Another standard reply: "soon".

At 10:30 am, I ran to the US Senate to attend the Robert F. Kennedy Memorial human rights Award ceremony with Wei Jingsheng, for which Wei is one of the Laureates. Then more errands in DC, getting frustrated with simply business but poor service. Handle the ongoing board meeting. Pay bills. Reply e-mails that request immediately attention with the promise of getting back to them tomorrow. Run to the airport for the last flight. The gate door was already closed. But they reopened the door to let me get on the airplane. Tired. Fall into sleep immediately.

Saw father standing in front of my eyes...

It has been three years since my father passed away. Three years is supposed to mark an end for the mourning. Yet, for me, it does not. Three years have passed, not only was I not allowed to attend my father's funeral, nor am I able to visit his tomb in China.

In the last three years, I barely talk about my father in public, although I often thought of him and dreamed of him - on my birthdays, on his birthdays, on the anniversary of his decease, on Chinese New Year Days, on Western New Year Days, on Mid-Autumn Festivals, on his favorite (Chinese) September 9's days, on the 100 degree hot summer days when my niece preparing for her college entrance exams would also make me recall my moderate father who quietly fanned my back in the hot room without an electric fan, not to mention air conditioning, so I could study... all the time, all the days...

I avoid to talk about him in front of people, for I do not want be overwhelmed by great sadness, but when I am writing about him now, when I am even thinking of him, especially when I think of the last time we were together, I could not control my tears...

There were times I would have the impulse to call him, and then realize that he is not there anymore. We never really said goodbye. We never really parted. Really. Don't you say?

Three years past, yet it never comes to come to a closure. Rationally, maybe. Emotionally never, to accept the fact that my father has gone to the other world.

Just three weeks ago, I saw the latest photos of Wei ZiLin, Mr. Wei Jingsheng's father. At the age of 83, he looked so fragile and his eyes struggled. I know how much he wishes to see his children; all of them are in exile and separated in three different countries. And I have no confidence that he could make his days to see any of them again.

Tears streamed down to my face when I saw Wei's photos, for I would not want to see anyone go through what I went through, even though I know many who would not give up their beliefs and actions for freedom and democracy in China.

My father's name is HUANG QinMao. Born into a several hundred year old intellectual family in HuangYan, ZheJiang Province. To me, my father always was the "poster boy" of a traditional Chinese man. He was humble and modest with a very good temper, adequate attitude, yet self-conscious, with excellent calligraphy (see link of his last calligraphy for me: http://weijingsheng.org/pic/newsletters/newsletters2003/calligraphy9910dad-4.jpg) and other intellectual capacities - an important reason that my grandfather agreed to and was happy with his daughter's marriage to my father. Like other Chinese, my father struggled all his life to avoid political persecution. Yet, he was still unable to escape the misfortune of his life at the end. (Links for my parents' wedding photo: http://weijingsheng.org/pic/newsletters/newsletters2003/parents5901wedding-5.jpg and our family together: http://weijingsheng.org/pic/newsletters/newsletters2003/family7103HCP-5.jpg)。

My father was not a brave man, and he become even shyer after his stroke in the 1980's that disabled parts of his capacities and even paralyzed half of his body for some period. He never fully recovered. In April 1998, when I "disappeared" with a group of unknown people (big and strong ones from the secret police) from home, in front of him yet unable to tell him who they were and where I was sent to, he was terrified. As he saw me get escorted into one of the waiting automobiles where more police were, he went to panic. He immediately had my sister to call every place he thought I could be, where of course I was not there.

On the day of my deportation, not sure if they were sending me to jail or kicking me out of the country, I got 20 minutes to pack for the departure and say good bye to my parents at home. Knowing that could be our last moment together, I tried to reach my father in the presence of the police team that had squeezed him into a corner of the crowded room.

As I walked toward to my father, trailed with the police, he moved further toward the wall. I tried to give him a hug and say something good, but he was so frightened that he moved away to the wall. So I grabbed his hand and told him that things will be just fine and asked him to take care of himself. I looked into his eyes, but they were full of fear, and he turned his head away.

This is the scene that I have played so many times in my head ever since. Virtually every time I thought of my poor father, my heart bleeds and my tears drop! Since my childhood, with one political wave after another, I had came to know that I must be careful of not bring my family trouble and my father was not someone who could protect me. That did give me a better chance to be strong and independent. Nevertheless, as the famed "parent-respecting daughter" that my parents were always proud of that finally caused all the turmoil to the home, I do not want to picture the tremendous pressure my father had to endure. Of special sadness is for him to look at the "obey the 4 Communist Party Principles" plaque every time he got out the door. The plaque was placed after I was gone, if it has the function of political hygiene.

With such a tremendous change, not surprisingly, soon my father got ill. On September 1999, he was rushed to the hospital and remained in critical condition. As I flew back to China, I was stopped by dozens of police right at Shanghai Airport - they were carrying out their promise of punishment for me not doing what they wanted. As they stated that I could be damaging the national security for coming back to my country, I pleaded to see my father on humanitarian grounds and to let them monitor me as they wished. But these pleas only served as the great bargain chip for them to force me "behave". So I was turned away.

Although my dad was so sick with late stage liver cancer, he did not die immediately as the doctors' diagnosed. For the rest of the 14 months of his life, he pulled back several times from the edge of death (see the last photo of my father in October 1999: http://weijingsheng.org/pic/newsletters/newsletters2003/last0010dad.jpg). I know how much he had hoped to see me even though he was short of expression, especially due to his stroke. I still have a handwritten letter my father had written to me after my deportation. When I received it, I was really surprised, for he had not written letters to me for nearly 10 years. From the letter, you could tell how much he had worried about me, instead of himself.

Every time I wanted to go back to visit him, the National Security Police would put out their conditions and requests. After my father died, the conditions were presented again for attending his funeral and burial. To the end, I did not see my father alive, nor at his funeral.

The old Chinese verses talked about the difficulty to keep the moral life, especially between one's loyalty to the country and to the family. It was easy to say, but difficult to endure. On one end, it never came to a closure for me, to accept the fact that I would never see my dad again. On the other end, this great sadness does encourage me to work harder for fairness and justice, human rights and democracy in China, so the other people would not have endure what I had to. This is the only comfort I could get from my father's departure.

This is my eulogy for the day. Rest peacefully, daddy.


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Overseas Chinese Democracy Coalition News and Article Release Issue: A39-G14

Release Date: November 20, 2003

Topic: In Memorial of my Father (Ciping Huang's diary on November 20, 2003)
标题:悼父祭文 (黄慈萍日记:2003年11月20日)

Original Language Version: Chinese
(English at beginning, Chinese version at the end)
Please visit our website if you have problem to read Chinese in this issue

















我的父亲叫黄钦茂,他出生于浙江省黄岩的一个书香门第。父亲是一个标准的老实人,谦虚、勤奋、温和、书法优美,是我外公最称心的女婿。然而,如同其他的中国人一样,父亲一生小心谨慎,却到头来也逃不过政治上的迫害。(见相片联接:父母之结婚照 http://weijingsheng.org/pic/newsletters/newsletters2003/parents5901wedding-5.jpg及我儿时的全家福http://weijingsheng.org/pic/newsletters/newsletters2003/family7103HCP-5.jpg)。






当时父亲已是肝癌后期,医生都惊讶他的顽强生命力。他在生命线上几度挣扎,几次病危。希望的信念使他奇迹般地拖活了14个月,我不知道,他是不是硬撑着,想要熬到见我一面的一天。但我终于让他失望了!(见他过世前一个半月为我照的照片联接:http://weijingsheng.org/pic/newsletters/newsletters2003/last0010dad.jpg 与父亲留给我的最后遗墨:http://weijingsheng.org/pic/newsletters/newsletters2003/calligraphy9910dad-4.jpg)。






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