My Celebration of Life Tribute for Sung
Read August 9, 2025, during his Celebration of Life
Thank you all for being here today to celebrate Sung. His presence touched every one of us in many meaningful ways. As you watch the slideshow, you’ll see him woven into many chapters of our lives—at the hospital when our kids were born, at weddings (so many weddings!), including Cham and mine almost 21 years ago, and always at the heart of the Kong family. We’ve considered him our friend, brother and uncle, Pou Sung, from the very beginning.
Sung often liked to keep close to home. But he was there for birthdays, holidays, moves, college memories, and woven throughout several’s careers in the energy industry. You’ll see his love of sports—like the mini marathon he barely trained for yet somehow outran us all like it was a casual jog in the park. He played soccer and basketball with the kids and developed a deep love for tennis, which we’re honoring here today. We heard so many great stories about his athleticism on the tennis court, but even more about his character and the friendships he forged playing tennis.
Sung loved good food and great wine—especially Korean food. Toward the end, we found humor in how particular he became. We may have lovingly called him “bougie” or a diva once or twice. But the truth is, enjoying food became a challenge because of the illness and treatment. So when something actually sounded good to him, someone would rush to the store or restaurant to make it happen. Some of these included Cham’s grilled pork chops, sticky buns, soups, blueberries, peaches, melon popsicles, and in his final days… Coke Classic. Lots of Coke Classic.
You’ll also see him giving hugs—big, genuine ones. Especially after a couple of drinks. He never hesitated to jump into a group photo, even when he wasn’t feeling his best. His presence was a gift, and we’re so grateful to have captured some of those beautiful moments during his time with us.
After a few visits to St. Louis in January, where Cham, Maureen, Kristin and I joined him for several appointments with his oncologist, Sung moved in with us on February 3rd. At that point, we had learned his cancer had spread and he was newly diagnosed with Stage 4 colon cancer. A small but mighty team rallied around him—Kristin flew in from California without hesitation, Maureen brought food, perspective, and clarity around the insurance chaos, and Heather navigated medical reports and helped us seek second opinions. Sung often told us he felt bad for all the fuss. We told him we couldn’t believe he’d been doing this alone. And we told him not to worry—Team Sung had this. He laughed at that. But we meant it.
While he was living with us, many of us traveled with Sung to St. Louis every two weeks for two days of appointments, infusions, and chemo. He had plenty of “good” company—myself, Cham, Terry, Maureen, and Sota—although he might argue the term “good” based on some driving incidents and questionable music choices during those trips.
Even in such a hard season, I cherished having him with us. I wish we could have done it sooner—and minus the illness. He truly felt like part of our family. Though I’m not sure he enjoyed us being around quite as much as we enjoyed him being there. The kids would come home, tell him about their day, check in to see if he needed anything, and always, always told him they loved him. I want to thank Arden, Talan, and Alaina for not only making space for us to care for Sung but for stepping in so naturally to love and care for him yourselves.
The same is true for our extended family. Terry poured much love into his thoughtful meals, full of both nourishment and care. Sung had countless visits from Terry, Sota and Todd, Kea and Ana, Chanphal, Meng, Chanmoni and kids, Khemara and Sam, Chantal and Elvin, and KJ—whether at Sunday family dinners or just because. Khemary, Kylin, Tyler, and Sung’s most recent little favorite, Liam, were there too and also spent several weekends at our house when Cham and I were away. I’m pretty sure Sung hoped we’d leave more often just so they’d come back. Liam, especially, had a special bond with Sung. He was barely walking and you’d find him gravitating toward Sung every visit. You’ll see the joy between the two of them in the photos today.
We also filled our home with friends. James and Chad came from out of state. Kristin returned from California again and again. And the Ben Davis crew—Sickmeier, John, Steffen, Matt and the rest—did what they do best: they showed up with love. Heather, who has a very special place in heaven and in my heart, was with us almost every minute of Sung’s final days. She joined us as we talked with him, laughed with him, comforted him, and helped him understand what was ahead. She made sure he was never alone and neither were Cham and I. I don’t know how we could have walked through those days without her.
And there’s also Sota—another amazing nurse, St. Louis chauffeur, meal provider, and loyal friend and sister—who also slept right by Sung’s side in those final days. Together, Heather and Sota helped us navigate the practical and emotional weight of it all, and I’m forever grateful.
Through all the pain and suffering, love was the most powerful force in our home. One day, near the end, I told Sung I was heading to the farmers market. He asked me to let him know anytime I left the house—because he wanted to make sure he told me he loved me before I went, just in case he wasn’t there when I got back. Even as his body failed him, his heart never did.
He faced this disease with grace, strength, and love. I often told him we were all drawing our strength from him. I truly was in awe. This time with him was tremendously hard… but also deeply beautiful. Our home was filled with love—his love, and ours for him—and I take enormous comfort in that. It filled his heart. And it forever filled mine.
Before I close, I want to say that Sung’s story isn’t just mine to tell. In a moment, you’ll hear from some of the friends, brothers, and nieces and nephews that loved him—people who grew up with his love, his humor, and his presence woven into their lives. They’ll share their own memories of Sung and how much he meant to them. I know their words will be a beautiful reflection of the brother, uncle, mentor, and friend he was.
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