Memories of Joe Lin by Jimmy Yang

Whenever you get a chance, scroll back down to Memories by Mike Chang. I found a great photo!

And here, we have Joe and Jimmy.

Joe and Jimmy (and Albert!) may as well have been brothers. The Lins and the Yangs were closer than family. So close, that if you were to look up the definition of "Lin family vacation," you would find, "A trip to visit the Yangs."

Joe’s family and mine have always been close. It started when our parents met in Taiwan, and then continued when our families came over here to the States. The Lins eventually settled down in Pittsburgh, while my family settled down in New Jersey. Yet despite the distance, our families always made sure to visit each other quite frequently.

Due to the closeness of our families, I’ve pretty much known Joe since childhood, even before the two of us could even form real memories. It’s always funny to see pictures of us as little toddlers, with our rice bowl haircuts, and trying so hard to remember what it was like then. Instead, we have the stories that our parents provide, such as the time Joe and I got separated from our parents and ended up lost in a Six Flags amusement park. I still laugh when our parents describe how they eventually found us wandering aimlessly, holding hands while bawling our eyes out together.

As we grow up, we begin to form real memories, and I cherish the fact that Joe has always been there since the beginning of my own memories. I mean, how often can you say that you’ve had a friend for pretty much your entire life? In that way, I am so thankful that our families have always made that dedicated effort to see each other so often, whether it was my family going to Pittsburgh, or the Lins coming to New Jersey, or even jointly heading to the North Carolina outerbanks for a summer getaway. With so many chances to see each other, it’s not surprising that, as an only child, I eventually ended up looking to Joe as that older brother I never had.
Having said this, it’s also not surprising that I ended up growing up with my own version of sibling rivalry. I can’t count the number of times I heard from my parents the latest and greatest about Joe. Let me tell you, if anything, Joe had always been the golden child - the perfect Taiwanese American boy. He always got the good grades, he played both violin AND piano, he spoke Taiwanese flawlessly, he was neat and organized, and of course adults loved him for his perfect manners. Of course, it didn’t help my case later when Joe got into Stanford and eventually medical school. And then of course, just to show off, the perfect Taiwanese American boy found an amazing Taiwanese American girl to marry. You would think I’d get frustrated trying to measure up to the “Crown Prince of Taiwan” (to borrow a phrase from Joe and Karen), but it was impossible to do so. You couldn’t help but respect Joe immensely, not just for his accomplishments, but for the way he stayed humble through each of his successes.

It all seemed to come easy to Joe back then, but as great as he was growing up, I think it’s pretty clear that Joe proved to be even greater as a man. Joe may have impressed me with his personal successes, but he truly inspired me with the way he faced adversity. Throughout his battle with his health, Joe demonstrated to me what it was to remain strong even when you felt most vulnerable, to be brave when surrounded by fear, to keep laughter in your heart when you felt like crying. Joe showed me how to keep hope in your heart despite discouraging odds, to be thoughtful and generous when everyone’s focus was on him.

A perfect example of this happened this past year, as I’ve been going through my own personal issues recently. Strangely at the times when I was most discouraged, I’d get a surprise phone call from Joe, almost like he knew that I was feeling down. Of course, a few minutes of talking to Joe and hearing him stay upbeat during a battle I couldn’t even fathom going through myself would put the world back into perspective. What right did I have to complain to him about anything when Joe was fighting a battle for his life? Yet, Joe was always so generous of heart and soul that he had more than enough strength to lend it to others like me. Every phone call I had with Joe left me inspired and refilled with hope. In one of our last conversations, I will always remember him reaffirming to me what I’ve always felt about him. He told me, “You know, Jimmy, I’ve always viewed you like another brother to me. You know you can always talk to me about anything, anytime.”

And so now, even though he’s gone to a better place, I still get to talk to Joe about anything, anytime. I get to talk to Joe every time I talk to Karen. I talk to Joe when I talk to the Albert. I talk to Joe when I talk to his parents. I talk to Joe when I talk to my parents. I talk to Joe when I talk to his friends. I still get to talk to Joe, because Joe has left a piece of himself in the hearts of everyone he’s touched. If anything, all I have to do is look inside my heart, and Joe is there. Joe will always be there with me, with us.

Be in peace, my dear friend and brother. We love you.