Wednesday, December 2, 1998
Two Families Bury Relative, Tend Their Graves
Before the burial, Yook Chew Tong and a brother placed a new silver dollar in
each urn, a custom believed to help the departed start a new existence.
At the cemetery, the urns were placed on a table against the smoggy sky
while Tong read a poem he composed for the day.
In translation, it proclaims:
"Neither the tallest mountain, nor the longest river can match a
parent's never-ending love of their child. Neither the oldest cedar, nor
the senior pine can match a child's eternal devotion to their parents."
On a recent Sunday afternoon, a dozen members of Hank Kim's extended family
gathered at the grave. A brown patch in the otherwise well-manicured
grass was evidence of the urn's interment a few weeks before. Kim's wife,
Joyce, wiped the marble ground marker clean with paper towels and Windex.
Their children, Alice, 16, and Victor, 14, planted flowers, as did other
relatives.
Wearing a dark suit and carrying a leather-covered Bible, Hank Kim led
the clan, including his brother and sister and their spouses and
children, in prayers and hymns. He read, in Korean, a passage from
Corinthians about resurrection and eternal life. Alice read the selection
in English. As little cousins toddled by the grave, generations seemed
peacefully united.