A warm friend has taken its final bow, and it is hard to let go.

In Memory of Mr. Zhang Senwen

Brother Zhang, your passing leaves me with mixed feelings, and it has reduced to nothing the many assumptions, hopes, expectations and memories our friends once held. Our friends asked me to write a tribute to you in a warm tone. I am not sure how a tone can be warm, but I am certain that you were a "warm" friend.

On Mid-Autumn Festival (September 19), I boarded a southbound train from Taipei to Zhunan. In the past, I would have guessed that you would be waiting for me by car at Zhunan Station. I could not decline, and had no need to decline, because you always said that was the basic courtesy between friends, and how could a friend come and not be picked up and dropped off? But on this day, there was no you, so I hailed a taxi and headed straight to Dapu. This trip was because of your passing.

In our private chats, home was your main theme. From the small field in Sanwan, to Xiangtian Lake in Nanzhuang, to the pharmacy where you started out; from your wife and children to relatives and friends; from memories and feelings to dreams of the future. I know that was the coordinate system of your life, letting you know where you came from and where you were going. That was your sweet realm.

But most of our meetings were always faced with the reality of a home being dismantled.

To protect your family, to hold on to your dwelling, to defend that last remaining 6-ping of sweetness from which there was no retreat, you and Sister Xiuchun rushed about ceaselessly for years, and endured hardship and even being broken down. Thus, your most open smile was replaced by tearful eyes; your most serene face was twisted by suffering; and your already small frame, under the pressure of disappointment and fear, became even smaller and fainter. This society, those in power, and the state system laid out a dead end, and let those local wolfhounds force you to the point of exhaustion.

I know you were on the verge of collapse. And not having held you back, not knowing how to hold you back, and thus letting you leave, has become our greatest apology and sorrow.

But you may not know that you left behind certain images for Taiwan society.

You always found a way to stuff bananas, green vegetables, zongzi, and peanut douhua into your friends' backpacks. That was the simplest and most sincere figure of rural Taiwan.

You always encouraged your friends, those people also facing hardship, those willing to strive to change everything, shaking hands with you across all time and space, smiling and nodding to you, or listening to you say things like "fight, work hard, you cannot be like this..." That was the figure of Taiwan society fulfilling the duties of a citizen.

You always kept saying thanks and thanks again. Even before leaving, you did not forget to urge Sister Xiuchun to thank everyone. In fact, it is everyone who should thank you. For the sake of your home, you went all out and gave everything, establishing a home, maintaining a home, guarding a home, protecting a home. That is an image Taiwan society should learn from.

The curtain has fallen, my friend. Thank you for your hard work. Let us thank each other.

Just think of it as you going for a walk. Put everything down, and take a good walk.

And we, my friends, will no longer have any sorrow, only endless determination, to make the country belong to the people, to make the system protect the people, and to make living securely on the land become the sweetness of life in Taiwan society rather than a nightmare.

Rest in peace, Brother Zhang.