Editor’s Note: This article has been adapted from Kyle’s original Substack. Do follow his awesome content! 

TLDR: After a friend passes away from liver cancer at 43, one question at his wake reveals how deeply one life can touch others.

I was at a wake recently.

A friend of mine had just passed away from liver cancer. He was only 43.

I wouldn’t say we were extremely close, but every time I met him, he was the same person. Bubbly, cheerful, full of sunshine. The kind of presence that quietly lights up a room. He was also the sort of person who would show up at events dressed as Cai Shen Ye (Chinese God of Wealth) during Chinese New Year or even as Santa Claus, just to make people laugh and bring joy to everyone around him. That was simply who he was. Someone who wanted others to feel happy.

Looking back, I think we shared something in common. Both of us had a habit of hiding our suffering. No matter how painful things were, we carried them silently with a sense of humour.

The Question That Follows Death

At the wake, people naturally started asking each other the same question:

“How did you meet him?”

It’s funny how that question always comes up when someone passes away. And the answers were all different. Some people met him through Buddhist symposiums. Others knew him from volunteering at the temple. Some were colleagues from work.

Everyone had their own version of how they met the same person.

It reminded me how a single life touches so many circles we may never fully see.

He was a deeply giving person and a very devoted Buddhist practitioner.

When His Wife Said My Name

At one point, his wife came over to speak with me. We had never met before. She said, “I just wanted to come over and talk to you. I’ve seen your pictures before, so I knew who you were.”

Then she said something that caught me off guard.

“Eric always said you were an inspiration to him. The way you fought through your cancer treatments. And how even now, despite the side effects you’re still living with, you never stopped living your life, practising and sharing the Dharma.”

I sat there quietly nearly bursting into tears when she said that.

Because in that moment, something became very clear to me.

Sometimes we think that what we share or what we write doesn’t matter. Sometimes we feel that people are not paying attention, especially when they don’t respond or say anything.

But that moment reminded me that people do read. People do feel. Even if they never say a word.

The opportunity to meet someone in this life is actually very rare.

In Buddhism, we often hear about the rarity of meeting the right teacher or the right conditions in life. Sometimes a single encounter with someone can change the direction of your life in ways you never expected. Not because they preach loudly or try to guide you, but because their way of living shows you something deeper.

Looking back, I realise he was one of those people. Someone whose presence quietly reminded me of what it means to live with generosity, faith, and joy even while carrying the suffering of his own.

Not just because he is someone with a warm personality or a joyful spirit. But because meeting someone even once can leave an imprint on your life in ways you only realise much later.

He was one of those friends who quietly inspired me.

Especially in the way he accepted something so difficult, something most of us struggle to accept. Cancer.

Sometimes, meeting one person, even briefly, can stay with you for the rest of your life.

Sitting there at the wake, I found myself thinking about something else.

How many times have we met someone without realising that it might be the last time?

Since then, I’ve started to appreciate the people I meet a little more deeply. I try to treat every encounter as if it might be the last time we cross paths.

Not in a sad way.

But in a way that reminds me to be present.

And when people ask me how I met him, the answer that comes to my mind now feels different.

I met him a few lifetimes ago.

And in this lifetime, he has become one of the reasons I try to live more fully in the present.

Wise Steps

• Treat each meeting with care, we may not know when an ordinary conversation becomes the last one.
• Let people know they matter while they are still here, just as the wake revealed how many people carried their own story of meeting him.
• When someone is grieving, ask “How did you meet them?” and listen without rushing, because that question gives people space to remember the person in their own way.