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Jun Shong Chew aka John Chew was born May 15, 1932 in Guandong, China, in the village of Sun-Wui, Gu Jian, Su Kai. He was the oldest child of Lim Bon Nin and Chew Yet Eng. He is survived by wife, Kui Ling, eldest daughter, Irene Wong, son-in-law Dennis Wong and grand-daughter Audrey Wong, second daughter Annie Leong, son-in-law Ming Leong, and grand-daughter Brianna Leong, third daughter Shelley Chew, fourth daughter Elaine Chew, and youngest son Robert Chew. He is also survived by younger sister, Helen Amaranto and brother-in-law Alfredo Amaranto, Junior and youngest sister Lily Sekiya and brother-in-law Ron Sekiya.

Jun Shong followed his parents to Vancouver, Canada and arrived here in 1952 at the age of 19. Remarkably, when he arrived in Canada, he met his father for the very first time. They got along very well. He married Kui Ling in 1958 and lived in chinatown. He continued to remain close to his parents who lived with him and his family until the mid-1970’s. He was an attentive and devoted husband who took good care of his wife and family and maintained the household duties. As a father, he was kind-hearted and gentle and we loved him. As young children, some of our favourite memories with our father was our annual trip during the summer months to Stanley Park and the PNE (Pacific National Exhibition). In later years, he enjoyed long bus trips with his son to local areas of interest. He always had a good recall about life back in the village and talked about the other relatives living abroad. He had an excellent memory and always remembered his children’s and grandchildren’s birthdates. His proudest moments were seeing all his children graduate from high school, seeing his two eldest daughters get married, seeing his son graduate from university, welcoming his two grand-daughters into the world, and finally retirement. As children, we were proud that shortly after he came to this wonderful country, he took some English courses to better his life. Even though he was a traditional man, he enjoyed trying different foods and maintained an open-mind about ideas and life in Canada. We are also proud that in his mid-fifties after not having driven for all of his adult life, he obtained his driver’s license. We thank our father for bringing us up. We knew that he risked everything by coming to Gold Mountain, working hard to put food on the table in order for us to have a better life.

He worked steadily at various packing jobs and finally retired from Terminal Fruit and Produce in 1998. He was an excellent cook and we often wondered if he should have been a chef instead. He always laughed this off. Jun Shong was the kind of man who everyone liked. He was gentle, kind and enjoyed a simple life with his family. Even though he had not been well schooled as a young man, he was an avid armchair traveller who enjoyed history, politics and keeping up with daily events. One of his favorite things to do was to visit Chinatown on a regular basis, having coffee in the early hours of the morning with friends and always finishing up with groceries for the next meal on the table. Even after retirement, he continued his daily ritual to Chinatown. This was his way of showing that while he never had a desire to return to China, he embraced Canada as his home but never strayed far from his roots.

Jun Shong continued to enjoy his retirement until he suffered a severe stroke in July, 2001. The stroke disabled him and drastically changed his life. For the past year and a half, he resided at St. Vincent’s Langara Care Home. He looked forward to almost daily visits from his family. He enjoyed the outings with his new friends and settled into a comfortable routine. On Thursday, Feb. 27, 2003 Jun Shong suffered another stroke and passed away peacefully with his family by his side.




Miss Me- But Let Me Go

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom filled room!
Why cry for a soul set free!
Miss me a little – but not for long
And not with your head bowed low,
Remember the love that we once shared,
Miss me – but let me go.
For this is a journey we all must take
And each must go alone;
It’s all a part of the master’s plan
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart
Go to the friends we know
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds
Miss me – but let me go.

- Edgar Albert Guest (1881-1959)