Chapel Of The Chimes Hayward
Eulogy: Notes on my brother Jay SiapnoLoving father, son, brother, artistBy Joy SiapnoIt is seven days since my brother Jay died last Sunday, Feb. 19. Iââ?¬â?¢m still in shock and so are the rest of our family. We are all numb. Jay died of a heart attack last Sunday. I still cannot believe nor accept that Jay is ââ?¬Å?deadââ?¬Â. It seems like a huge mistake, ââ?¬Å?a flukeââ?¬Â, as my sister Diosa called it. But on my first and second day of visiting Jayââ?¬â?¢s home and cleaning and packing his things after his death, I found some journals, letters, random notes written on small pieces of paper, and other writingsââ?¬Â¦ and when I, Diosa, Jon and other members of our family read them, I feel he is very much alive, very much present in our lives.My sister asked me to write a eulogy but I found it incredibly difficult to compose a single sentence, until today.My own home, and my sister Diosaââ?¬â?¢s home, is full of paintings, vases, beautiful art work, books, music ââ?¬â?? given to both of us as presents, from Jay. Every where we look…Jay is there. Jay enabled me to do all the things Iââ?¬â?¢ve been able to do: do my fieldwork in Aceh (he subsidized this), finish my Ph.D. dissertation (he let me stay in his home and cooked for me, so I could focus on writing), take care of me and my close family and friends when we were sick and/or in the hospital, take-over child-care for my son Hadomi when our home in Delta I, East Timor was burnt down in 2006, and re-construct and re-build our home in 2010 because we didnââ?¬â?¢t have the capacity to repair that which had been broken. I was able to do the things I had done in my life because of Jayââ?¬â?¢s support. Without him, I would not be able to do anything. He is my brother, my best-friend, my wise counsellor, my right-hand man, the one who I always asked for advice on the most important decisions I had to make in my life, the one who always responded to my facebook posts when no one else could be bothered, the one who gave me strength, hope, and inspiration…and an alternate way of imagining the world.Jay was born on July 20, 1973. It is the same year that Marcos declared Martial Law in the Philippines. He is part of a generation of what sociologists refer to as ââ?¬Å?Martial Law babiesââ?¬Â. This is significant because the beginning of the plundering of our country by this dictator had a huge impact on the life-paths of many migrant Filipinos, including my brotherââ?¬â?¢s life. Jay was eight years old when he first came to the US, growing up in inner city Oakland where we first lived (at that time apparently one of the ââ?¬Å?top ten most dangerous cities in the USââ?¬Å?) , in an apartment filled with other recent immigrants from Vietnam, Cambodia, and going to school in a predominantly black neighborhood.Jay was one of these extraordinarily rare people who embodied peace and serenity. One of the first words used by many of his friends to describe him is ââ?¬Å?calmââ?¬Â. He also had an unusual capacity for patient observation, a gift that serves him well as a writer and artist, who always taught us when we painted: ââ?¬Å?Art takes time. Donââ?¬â?¢t be in a rush. Itââ?¬â?¢s a process.ââ?¬Â This past Thursday, Feb. 23, on my second day of cleaning and packing Jayââ?¬â?¢s things in his home, I found one of his journals. It is a small notebook with Jayââ?¬â?¢s thoughts, and on the front hardcover he wrote: ââ?¬Å?Book of Observationââ?¬Â. On the first page of this little notebook, he writes: ââ?¬Å?Book & Short Stories that will be published.ââ?¬Å? I noted that he used the word ââ?¬Å?willââ?¬Â, instead of ââ?¬Å?shouldââ?¬Â or ââ?¬Å?ought to beââ?¬Å?. So I am keeping these journals and writings, in the hope that I can get them published one day. The first one on his list is ââ?¬Å?Thrift Store Diariesââ?¬Â based on his ethnographic observations of the thrift stores in Hayward, Bay Area and an analysis of the California economy and US capitalism; and the second one is ââ?¬Å?Nation-Buildersââ?¬Â, based on his observations of living in