The short 6 weeks we call "summer break" in between our first and second year of medical school was very, very eventful. Eventful is the perfect word. The month of May was one of the saddest of my life: bak long died, David and I put our ferret Jake down, and my big aunt got diagnosed with breast cancer. And though I didn't know her, David's best friend Justin's sister got into a horrible car accident in May that caused her to have to relearn how to do everything.

But the other part of my summer break was incredibly insightful, stimulating, awe-inspiring, maddening, but wonderful - the Summer Institute on Race and Health. Not only did I learn things that I would never learn elsewhere, but I grew as a person and gained some much-needed humility. I also built amazing relationships with amazing people. Dr. Jorge Garcia spoke to us applicants when I interviewed at UC Davis. He left such a mark on me that day that I felt like UC Davis was the perfect school for me (and now I'm here! I'm so fortunate). Then he spoke at our Induction Ceremony, and left a mark on David. And during the Summer Institute, I got to know Dr. Garcia and his wife Dr. Jann Murray-Garcia very well, and they even invited David and me to their home for dinner and a movie. I should have blogged about all the things I learned and my reactions to them. It would have been great to share with you, whoever you are. I think I will try to blog more often now.

And lastly, the last reason my summer was eventful - bak long's funeral. It's been nearly a month, and I will try to remember the best I can. David and I got to eat breakfast with Annie, her dad, her uncle from Macau, our big aunt and big uncle, and my sister Helen. I realize I used the term "got to" like it was a privilege or opportunity, but it really was. I miss my family so much, I miss having people nearby who love me so much. And I especially felt privileged to have shared time with Annie, her dad, and her uncle from Macau when they were so busy. When I got to the funeral home, I learned from Connie some heavy information. While Connie and Tammy were helping clean out Bak Long's clothes from the home (we put all her clothes and belongings in the casket with her), they found a letter. This was surprising because Bak Long didn't leave a letter, though she had before in her previous attempts. But as Tammy read it, she realized it wasn't a letter from Bak Long. It was a letter from Bak Fu (her husband) telling her how much he loves her and how everything is going to be okay - a love letter to his mentally ill wife. That is so hauntingly beautiful - I never think of my uncle as beautiful. When I think about this letter, I instantly cry at the idea of my uncle not giving up and trying so hard to hold on to his wife. It makes me happy that their love was so genuine, but also saddens me. So of course I instantly teared up when Connie told me this. Bak Fu saw me crying and patted me on the shoulder - the closest thing to a hug for Chinese people. I actually like the way we show love. Annie's uncle from Macau, who was Bak Long's only blood relative present (except Annie of course), sobbed throughout the funeral. We all noticed, he sobbed harder than any of us did. I wonder if it's because he barely ever got to see her for 20 years. Connie gave the English eulogy. It was really sad. Connie lived with Bak Long for a year. I gave her a hug afterwards even if it was a little awkward. I got to spend time with my mom one-on-one during the funeral procession, another privilege. I can not imagine losing her, nevertheless when I was 18. After the burial, we ate at the vegetarian restaurant. And the cousins caught up with each other, joked around. We got to spend time with our baby nephew Collin, which I'm pretty sure is rare for most of the cousins. Collin loved David, and even mentioned him afterwards about "nice guy talk about Cars." He's an impressive 2-year-old. When we left the restaurant, David hit the nail on the head when he said, "The reception after the funeral are always good because they make you realize that life can and will go on." I love being close to my cousins.

Annie and Debra came up to visit me during my first week back in school. I had to bring them to one class with me. As fate would have it, it was the one class that hits exactly close to home. It was a case study about bipolar disorder and major depression. I don't know what my aunt's official diagnoses were, but Annie recognized practically all the drugs. She recognized the generic name and even knew some of the associated brand names. She was so matter-of-fact about knowing these drugs and their side effects. She's amazingly strong. I felt a little guilty that I brought her to the one lecture out of all my med school lectures that she would understand the most. But she was fine, and she continues to impress me.