All Journal Entries from Members of Eddie K Au's Tribute

It's the third Christmas we're spending without Eddie.  Traditionally, Eddie would always fly back to Chicago from Boston to spend at least a week with us.  It's been a trying time (to say the least) to come to terms again with why Eddie had to be taken away from us.  And though it has been three years - it doesn't get any easier as most people would say.  However, I still know, no matter what, Eddie would want us to continue remembering him in our hearts during this holiday season and never give up on our pursuits - whatever that may be.

This Christmas, I wish for Eddie to be happy and proud of what we have all accomplished thus far. I also ask him to please continue watching over us, his loved ones, as he has been since the first day he left us.

Merry Christmas, Eddie!  We all love you eternally.

I met up with an old co-worker, whom I guess I can actually consider a friend now, for lunch this afternoon.  We hadn't seen each other for nearly 4 years now and it was time to catch up.  We talked about what kind of side projects we were working on nowadays and Warm Tribute came up.  I told him the reason I setup the site. As I was telling him about Eddie passing away, I couldn't help but hang my head a little and pause for a second.

I notice that I do that quite often whenever I first bring up Eddie's passing to anyone.  It's something involuntary and it's normal.  I guess I just find certain human behavior interesting, especially when I do it myself =).  And just to let you all know, it's not like from that point forward I'm depressed for the rest of the conversation, it's always just a second or two.

Do any of you have a weird quirk when you bring up the loss of your loved one?

Today, November 27th, 2008 marks the third anniversary of my brother Eddie's passing.  And of all days, it has to land on Thanksgiving.  As I realize more and more that this day is upon my family and I, I end up feeling emptier inside.  It's a slow sense of sorrow that engulfs me.  I don't feel the need to scream out of anger or weep out of sadness, but it's a day where I feel compelled to sit, think, and let the emptiness wash over me.

Writing in this journal seems to be helpful because it allows me to throw all the thoughts I'm having into an external media outside of my own mind.  I don't think what I'm writing is making much sense right now.  Regardless, it's helping.

The memories of the hospital as Eddie laid on his bed flashes through my mind, like one of those intense scenes in a medical show.  The only difference is that doctors weren't rushing to provide Eddie resesitation to regain life.  Instead Eddie was slowly allowed to pass away in peace with his family members around him.  I still remember placing my hand over his heart and said out loud, "I don't feel his heart beating" then looked over to the nurse who gave me the slow nod of confirmation that it was the end.

From that night and every single moment after that I live to continue making Eddie proud of me. I'm sure I will encounter pitfalls, but I know I will overcome them and get back on the path to succeeding in this goal.  I love you, Eddie.  Thank you for watching over me all my life.

You know, I think a good amount of people have a tendancy to be hesitant when they're about to create an online memorial or make a post simply because they don't know if this is the "best" method of immortalizing your loved one. 

I even second think my posts at times simply because the memories I have feel so personal and dear to me that I wouldn't want anyone else but Eddie and I to know about them.  And then I realize that that mentality is understandable and all, but ultimately, your memories will always be yours whether you share them with others or not.  When you do decide to share them though, I believe allows others to know your loved one (in my case, Eddie) in a different facet.  That's just another way of ensuring he gets immortalized forever.

Don't get me wrong, there certainly are memories I keep to myself or write a personal note to Eddie about.  However, the ones I do share, I believe in a way, can only help sustain Eddie's existence in our world.

Since Eddie's passing, there are two dates that tend to motivate me to be more productive.  Those dates are April 7th (his birthday) and November 27th (the day he passed away).  Most people tend to use either their own birthdays or New Years Day to jump start their productivity, but I choose these days because I want to be able to keep my promise to Eddie and continue to make him proud.

So, with April 7th approaching all too soon, I want to make people aware that I have been setting up new projects for myself and expect to see improvements to this site as well.

I know Eddie would have been cheering on the Patriots today.  Even though he's a Chicagoian at heart, his home for nearly half his life was in Boston.  I remember he was excited when the Pats first won the Super Bowl.  I was shocked he was even interested.  it's a shame they didn't win this time around.  A perfect 19-0 Season would have been a great tribute to all Patriot fans of the past and present.

It's 2:30 in the morning in Chicago right now and I stupidly decided to have a caffinated drink before going to bed - I just had a craving for it.  And so, I figured it'd be better for me to make a post and reflect on my recent visit to Boston, rather than tossing and turning in bed.

So, it's been a little over a couple of hours since the two year anniversary of Eddie's passing.  I was able to make it out to see Eddie yesterday (it was a beautiful day as it usually is whenever I go to visit him), where I spent my time cleaning around his area and telling him all the thoughts that would pop into my mind.  I believe he can comprehend the things I write about and speak aloud, as well as the thoughts in my head.

It's never difficult for me to want to go and see Eddie at any moment.  I cherish the time I actually get to be where he lays.  Even though I know he's always around the ones he cares about/care for him, it brings a different level of solace visitng where he physically rests.  Today was no different.

As I was nearing the end of my visit with Eddie, I couldn't help but step back and absorb the view before me.  I was in a cemetary with Eddie's tombstone directly in front of me and others laid aside of him.  The emotion that had befallen onto me for a brief moment was acceptance of what's happened two years ago through now.  I believe acceptance of what's occured used to scare me, because I thought it would mean the end of my strength to stay put together, but I realize it doesn't mean that at all.  Though I can't say I fully (or even majorly) accept these events, I know it doesn't mean the end.

As I stated during Eddie's wake two years ago, "my ambition, my motivation, and my success will all be in the name of Eddie."  I don't forsee myself steering away from this path.

I don't believe Eddie and I called each other on a regular basis.  It was typically whenever either one of us felt it was time to simply catch up, or to find out details of the holidays that were coming up.  However, there were periods where we would call each other a few times a week just to chat and see what's new.

Typically, it would be me calling him multiple times a week attempting to get a hold of him, leave a message, wait for a call back, never receive one, and me having to call and leave a message again.  I don't believe anyone would deny Eddie was a busy person, whether it was for work or to be with friends, so I understood his actions.

Occassionally, I find myself sitting in front of my laptop at home and looking over to my right, where the LCD picture frame Danny got me rotates photos of Eddie, and it dawns on me that I can't simply call Eddie to catch up anymore.  Even now, after writing that last line, I had to take a pause and let reality set in.  It's obviously never easy, but some way and some how I'm sure he knows what's happening in my life, from the mostly mundane to the exciting.

The subject may sound a bit misleading.  This entry has nothing to do with the new Apple iPhone, but what it represents.  Though this phone has its flaws and overlooked features, everyone agrees that it's truly innovative and in my opinion will most likely become better with future generations.  But I digress.

The iPhone is so innovative that I can't help but think about what Danny has mentioned to me before... Eddie will not be around to see these new technological advances.  I don't even think the final product design was available while Eddie was in the hospital.  Sometimes it's difficult to accept that the world doesn't stop for a single person.  No matter how true that may be, I enjoy knowing that with my memories and my thoughts I can, in some way, keep Eddie's presence moving forward as well.

One thing I know for sure is that Eddie would be very excited for the iPhone's release.  He probably wouldn't wait in line for it though, nor buy the first generation - unless it was a great deal. 

I never really took into consideration the emotional effect(s) the above quote expresses until Eddie passed away.  I would hear this being said by a few acquaintences, but mostly dialogue on television shows/movies.  When it was spoken I remember not thinking much of it, but just taking it as a part of a story and simply not very seriously. 

It's interesting that now, when I hear/read this line, it brings me immediately to the thoughts of Eddie and now I can't help but simply agree and feel compassion for others who have experienced such a loss.

There truly isn't a day that goes by where Eddie isn't in my thoughts.  I guess that's all part of coping and it helps me feel like he's still close, even if by a small degree.

A lot of times I'm sitting at home or in my office and I terribly want to write an entry into this online journal, but I just don't know what to say.  Do I say something about Eddie? Do I talk about my day?  Do I just post random rubbish that crosses my mind?  And ultimately, I come back to the former.  This tribute, this entire site really, was created for Eddie and I felt as though I should be compelled to only write entries that are related to him.

Though I have a numerous thoughts about Eddie throughout the day, I can't seem to express them well enough in words and so that leads me to not post anything at all.  So I thought about it some more.  Is it better to write something than nothing?  And I finally figured that, yes, it is.  My problem has been straigntening out the thoughts in my head, ranging from the mundane to thoughts about Eddie.  And so as i slowly release the mundane topics out of my mind, perhaps I can then put the feelings/memories of Eddie into words once again.

Writing is therapeutic...

Happy 30th Birthday bro!  You are constantly in our hearts.

The post below was written on March 7, 2006 during the middle of a restless night.  It has been sitting in my laptop since then and I feel it is due time I share it.

I sit here in my bed tossing and turning with hundreds of thoughts passing through my mind.  This has been the case for a little over three months.  I have been meaning to write down my feelings for a while now, but every attempt in front of a computer led me to find new ways of distracting myself. Either that or my fingers would simply never find the right keys to press in order to express my thoughts.  I don’t know if I will be able to express my true feelings now, but I guess I will try.

I had no idea where to start, but I figured from the beginning is always a good choice.  So, on November 27th, my dear older brother Eddie passed away.  About three days later I had an amazingly vivid dream:

I find myself in a club with an approaching hurricane/storm/tornado/end of the world situation.  Everyone in the club is freaking out with no ideas on what to do.  I find myself attempting to run and hide under various booths, tables, chairs, anything that would conceal me.  Talks of cannibalization arise and I know I will be one of the first victims.  I begin to fear for my life and I realize this dream is starting to become a nightmare…

Suddenly, the scenery changes and I am in the passenger seat of my brother Eddie’s Volkswagen Jetta.  The driver is Eddie, dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans, wearing his newest pair of Armani glasses he was buried with.  He begins to drive out of his garage onto Commonwealth Avenue.  I begin to think selfishly about how I will need to return his digital camera and end up buying my own.  However, I quickly get ecstatic about seeing and being with Eddie again, that I instantly relinquish my selfish thoughts.

We drive through a short tunnel that brings us to this amazingly vibrant, peaceful, and clear green hilly pasture.  It is truly clear, the crystal clearest dream I have ever had. We are heading to pick apples or something.  Eddie begins to drive faster and faster and I can feel the force caused by the acceleration pressing up against my chest.  I turn to him and say, “woah, not so fast Eddie”.  He slows down and turns to me with a smirk, as if to jokingly tell me not to be such a wuss.  I quickly put on my seat belt and I tell him that it would be okay to drive as fast as he can now.  We pass up an unrecognizable (due to the speed we are going) gentleman in what I believe is in a black suit.

I am in ignorant bliss and I turn to Eddie to tell him “I hope this isn’t a dream.” Eddie turns to face me with slightly quivering lips and a discouraging look.  The look that expressed, “what am I going to do now?”

The scenery changes to a pitch black background with Eddie and I as the only two visible objects.  I cross my forearms atop of each other and my fists clenched, bracing myself for the truth.  Eddie grabs hold of my hands and says to me, “Just forget about me, and be careful.”

I awaken with my arms crossed as they were in my dream along with great warmth upon my hands.  I lift myself up by simply bending at the waist, while my legs lay dormant in front of me.  I call out to my oldest brother Danny who is asleep on the couch in front of me, so that I can relay my dream to him.

The actions and words of this particular dream may not seem very significant, but this was the most vivid dream I have ever had.  My cousin and my oldest brother both had dreams involving Eddie, with him wearing exactly the same thing, but not knowing each other had dreamt about it until later.  Ultimately, all of our dreams tell us that Eddie is okay and specifically for me, he doesn’t want to me to worry myself about his passing and wants me to take care of myself.

It’s close to 1am over here in Central time. And I felt it was time I cleaned out my E-mail Inbox. I had 251 “marked as unread” E-mails in my Outlook. All these E-mails were from just one night before Eddie had passed away to about a couple of weeks after I got back to Chicago. About half of them were spam and about a third of them was unrelated E-mails from friends. The rest were condolences.

I’m not sure why it has taken me this long to clean out my inbox. It always kind of irritated me that the inbox would indicate that I had new E-mail; when in reality it only contained E-mails from about a year ago. I guess I just didn’t want to deal with it. I didn’t want to go back to that period of time in any way or sense. However, I felt it was time to do it tonight.

The best I could do was delete the spam and mark the non-condolence E-mails as read. As I write this journal entry, I only re-read one of the condolence E-mails. This one was forwarded to me by Danny from his friend who went through a similar situation, but from a mother’s point of view.

In her E-mail she states, “Seeing Michael’s friends is bittersweet. I love seeing them and hearing about their families, but hate it because of what Michael will never experience. But the fact that his friends loved him so much and still do makes me proud and trumps not seeing them at all.” And I have to agree with her. By no means do I hate seeing any of you, but her last line really hit close to home. I’m really thankful that Eddie was able to touch each and every one of us and I’m also very ecstatic that you (and hopefully many more) have joined this tribute to him.

She also attaches a couple of poems that I would like to share with you all as well:

A love song - Author unknown

The mention of my child's name
May bring tears to my eyes
But it never fails to bring
Music to my ears.
If you really are my friend
Please don't keep me
From hearing the beautiful music
It soothes my broken heart
And fills my soul with love

I’d rather be ashes than dust - By Jack London

I’d rather be ashes than dust.
I would rather my spark burn out in a brilliant blaze than it shall be stifled by dry rot.
I would rather be a superb meteor, every ebb of me a magnificent glow than a sleepy and permanent planet.
The proper function of man is to live, not exist.
I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them.
I shall use my time.

Thank you all again for your time. There are still about 20 more E-mails that are marked unread, but I think I’ll let them sit in there a bit longer.

Watching Eddie's casket being lowered into the grave was very hard for me. This was a finalization that I will no longer see my brother physically nor will I be able to interact with him again. He was suppose to experience at least the first half of the 21st century in what it has to offer with new ideas and innovations. Missing him is the hardest part. Depending on how long I have in this world just means he is not here during that time. Eddie was my first little brother whom I also considered as one of my "kids.” I saw him more through the eyes of a parent than as a brother - from his first steps as a toddler; to helping him settle in to his freshman dorm room at Boston University; to seeing his role as Director of Systems Technology. That didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy hearing about his crazy, wild times as a brother. I wish I had a chance to partake some of those moments with him.

He made great strides during his young adult life, which provided me with pride when conveying them to my friends, but for me, it's the small things he’s done which comes to the forefront more such as a plant he salvaged from a trash bin a few years ago and nurtured back to life. Each time I see it, which now sits in my sun room, memories about him surfaces.

Even though he left this world as a young adult at 28 with a face of a kid his spirit will continue to grow and age along with me especially each year on his birthday.

So, this is my first original journal entry in WarmTribute.com. I'm not sure what to say exactly, except I'm thrilled that this site is up and running. Though, it may have some bugs, I'm sure I can tackle them. I want to give a huge thanks for my friend John for helping me host and code this site. Without his help and motivation I don't believe I would have been able to accomplish as much of this site today.

I am really hoping my users find the features useful and seriously bring some solace and ease of mind into your lives.

I know, this being the first post, it should be a lot more in-depth, but I was up late tweaking stuff, so I'm a bit worn. I'll write more late or edit this post. Take care everyone!

This is an old entry of mine from my online journal. Originally posted on 11/19/2005

I arrived in Boston yesterday evening around 5:00pm EST, met up with my cousin at the airport, and headed straight to Massachusetts General Hospital.

Earlier in the day, around 8:00am, I awoke to a phone call from my oldest brother Danny. With a slight tremble in his voice and occassional sniffs he told me the doctors' latest diagnosis on Eddie, "these are his last few days." My immediate reaction was of shock and all I knew was that I needed to be out there with Eddie. So I called my cousin who works for the airline and received a stand by ticket for the next ticket out of Chicago to Boston soon after.

After speaking with my cousin, I called as many people as I could that would want to know about Eddie's condition. The first two being Eddie's friends whom I knew the number to, Phe and Aaron. Then the next few being my own friends Jessica, Charlene, Chris, and John.

By the time I made the first wave of calls and washed myself up, it was past the time I needed to go into work (9:20am). So, I got dressed and proceeded to walk over to my office. One of my two supervisors was in and the other was working from home. I wanted to tell them my situation in person as much as possible, so I set up a meeting immediately after our manager had arrived. The meeting was brief, but I was told not to be concerned about sorting out my time off and take care of my family first. Very understanding people, and I truly appreciated it.

Once I got home, I proceeded to pack my suitcase with occassional break downs here and there. But around 10:30am, I was called by the hospital to be patched into a conference call between my family and the doctors. The explanation was the same as it had been the past few weeks, "Eddie's very ill". Determination of an exact date (probably partially due to liability issues) was impossible, but it was apparent it wouldn't be long. The doctors said they will continue to do all they can for him, but once the point of "all they can do" arrives, it will be up to my family and I to decide on the next steps. There wasn't much left to be said and so the call ended.

When I finally finished packing, John was downstairs waiting to drive me to the airport. Along the way I made some additional calls to family letting them know about the situation. Thanks for the ride John. I think it was a lot more comforting for me to know that a friend was driving me to the airport rather than some random cab driver.

The wait at the airport was numbing. I sat in the terminal anticipating whether or not I would be able to get a seat. When I was finally called I boarded the plane and sat back as I grueled over my sinus headed that was imposed by the air pressure and my cold. The plane finally landed in Logan at 5:00pm EST.

Arriving at the hospital, I quickly went to Eddie's room in the Intensive Care Unit (ICU). It was the same room I left him in last week, and the same area which I had seen him in a couple of times prior in the last six months. I never wept those times, but knowing what I knew now, even with a good amount of his friends around I couldn't hold it in any longer as I held Eddie's hands and looked into his eyes. I composed myself as quickly as I could and told him, "I love you."

The room was getting fairly stuffy with all the people in there, so I went out to the waiting area. Some more of Eddie's friends were out there and we, along with my oldest brother, proceeded to talk about Eddie and ask his friends questions that only friends would know. We had a good amount of laughs, which was very therapeutic for us all.

People started to leave around 9:30pm EST and my oldest brother and I decided to spend the night. Relieving my mom of her nightly shifts that she has been doing for about two weeks straight. I only had two chairs to support me, but it was comoforting to know Eddie was right beside me. It reminded me of when we were just little kids and whenever I got scared, I'd jump into bed with him and cover my head under the covers.

For those of you who are reading this, please continue to truly pray for Eddie. At times, it feels pointless, but miracles happen everyday as Chris told me. And the power of prayer, no matter who/what you believe in, is a force that no one can comprehend nor fight against.

On my closing note. Spend as much time as you can with your family and loved ones. Never take these moments for granted. Though some of you may take my words to heart and actively show your love to your loved ones after reading my story, the intensity of your outwardly projected love will probably fade down the road. This is common, but do your best not to let it fade.

This is an old entry of mine from my online journal. Originally posted on 11/27/2005

On October 20th, I flew into Boston for vacation to see my brother Eddie. As I was anticipating leaving work, I received a call from him letting me know that he was back in the hospital. He had been re-admitted the night before, but was too tired to call me to let me know. When he told me this, I was upset because I had no idea why he was just letting me know of how ill he was. And I asked if he still wanted to me to come over, in case he would've felt that I'd be a bother. He told me he would still like for me to come and see him. So, immediately landing at Logan, I take a cab straight to MGH and visit him for a few hours. My days were spent catching up with some reading in Borders and at night having casual conversations with Eddie. I was told he would be out of the hospital just after I left and they discoverd his illness stemed from his colitis and salmonella infection. I felt relieved they discovered what the cause was and so I headed back to Chicago on the evening of October 24th. He was able to get discharged by the 25th. I called him daily to make sure he was okay, his responses seemed normal with the occassional, "I'm a bit tired, I'll talk to you later". Didn't think much of it and continued on.

On November 1st, I received a call from Eddie's cell phone. On the other end was his friend letting me know that Eddie was just sent to the ER because he passed out while in the waiting room. My oldest brother Danny quickly brought my dad to Boston the next day and went to see Eddie. Apparently he had more infections within his blood stream and that caused him to get worn out with low blood pressure. Danny and my father continued to stay with him and visit him in the hospital.

On November 8th, I received a call from Danny telling me that my mom and I need to get a flight out to Boston as soon as possible. Eddie was in need of the TIPS surgery (where they place a shunt into his liver to open a new channel for his blood to flow) immediately and it was going to be very difficult. So I go back to my place, pack whatever I could, and went to my parent's place where we planned to take a 6am flight out of Chicago to Boston. We head straight to MGH after we land and wish Eddie luck during the procedure, though he was already pretty sedated. There were some difficult times, but fortunately he survived the surgery. My family was relieved. However, he was unable to speak because he had a breathing tube going down his throat. but was still able to nod and shake his head. On the 13th of November, I felt things were going in the right direction and went home to Chicago, while the rest of my family stayed behind.

This past Friday, November 18th, I was awakened by a call from my oldest brother Danny about how the doctors had admitted that Eddie was very ill and would only have a few days left to live. Again, I was determined to see Eddie. So I wash up, head into work and let my boss and team know what was happening, and I call a friend to drive me to the airport. Along the way I made as many calls as possible and told people to spread the word. It was a bit nerve wrecking to see if I would get a seat, since I was flying stand by, but luckily I got one. During the plane ride I was experiencing a severe headache, but I survived the ride and met up with my cousin and headed straight to the hospital once again.

Eddie had gotten worse while I was away and when I saw him laying in bed with his friends standing by him I couldn't help but cry. He didn't understand why I was crying and was upset at my reaction. He was still unable to speak because of the tube, but he had pulled his hand away from mine. I composed myself and spent the day talking to his many friends from high school through college and other Bostonians he met along the way.

The following days, Eddie would attempt to raise his arms while trembling, showing signs of hope that he was getting stronger. However, my family and I were told that his kidneys had been affected by his liver being damage, so he needed to be on dialysis. His blood was still infected with various bacterias, so he was under a lot of antibiotics. And his blood condition, Budd-Chiari Syndrome, which is essentially clots within the liver was not treatable at this point.

Yesterday afternoon, November 22nd, my family and I met with the doctors and they conveyed what we had suspected in the back of our minds. Eddie will not be able to beat this. This is comparable to "the perfect storm". Eddie needed his liver to show some signs of improvement, but it had actually gotten worse. And with all the other problems attacking him at once, he has no chance of survival. Eddie simply did not have the time left to recover. So it's now up to us to decide on how and when to let him go. We would prefer that Eddie make this decision himself, but if he finds it difficult we will need to do it for him.

I remember thinking to myself a while back that I've never lost anyone remotely close to me. And I wouldn't know, nor would I want to know, how I would handle it. And now God has shown me, but I don't know why it has to be my brother Eddie. Eddie is the closest person to me, no one has ever come closer. I don't know how to feel... I breakdown, as does the rest of my family, and at times I'm simply numb and try to go on because I know things need to get done. I'm typing this on his computer right now and I look around seeing his belongings knowing he will never be able to appreciate or see his things again...

He is a very ambitious and driven person of whom I admire and only want to make proud. He has accomplished and received so much for his 28 years here on Earth. I need to continue it on for him and never let him be forgotten. My ambition, my motivation, and my success will now all be in the name of my older brother Eddie. I love him so much.