Please enter a minimum of 2 characters to search.
Please enter a minimum of 2 characters to search.
Memorial Keepers(1)
They manage this memorial. Contact or join
David Liu
Chau's Child
Chau Hui Liu, M.D.
October 10th, 1944 - January 27th, 2025
October 10th, 1944 - January 27th, 2025
My Life is Plain, Without Regrets
In lieu of gifts and donations, please consider supporting the following causes that were dear to Chau Hui:
Events
Create an event page to coordinate a gathering in honor of Chau
Tributes
Share a favorite memory, send condolences, and honor Chau’s life with a heartfelt message.
David Liu
2/8/2025 - Presented at the Celebration of Life From Terry Tao: We come before You today with hearts that grieve yet are also filled with gratitude for the life of Dr. Liu. We thank You for the years You granted him on this earth, for the love he shared, and for the lives he touched. Through hardship and challenge, he chose to see the good in life—to embrace each day not with despair, but with perseverance and kindness. Lord, You remind us in Matthew 5:45 that Your sun shines on both the good and the bad, and Your rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous alike. Dr. Liu understood this truth well. He knew that suffering and joy walk hand in hand in this world, yet he never let trials dim his light. Instead, he poured himself into healing others, using his gifts as a physician to bring comfort, strength, and hope to those in need. And now, though he has left our sight, we take comfort in Your promise from Psalm 139, that no matter where we go—whether soaring on the wings of the dawn or settling on the far side of the sea—Your hand will guide us, and Your right hand will hold us fast. We know that Dr. Liu is now in Your presence, held securely in Your embrace, no longer burdened by pain or toil. Lord, we ask that You fill our hearts with the same spirit of endurance and compassion that defined Dr. Liu’s life. May we carry forward his legacy—not only remembering his goodness but striving to reflect it in our own lives. And as we walk through this valley of sorrow, remind us that we are never alone. Your light still shines, and Your love never fails.
David Liu
2/8/2025 - Presented at the Celebration of Life From Ryan Tao: To start this speech, I want to thank my grandpa - who I called agong for the man he made me into. The analogy I think about when I am reminded of Agong, goes back to one of me and agongs favorite pastimes together, going to get a nice hot bowl of beef noodle soup next to his clinic, taking a midday siesta, and being ready to tackle the rest of our day. With the right people, they can be that sustaining beef noodle soup and calming mid day siesta, helping you get ready to tackle the next chapter of life. This is what agong was for me especially during my first decade of life, unsure about what direction I wanted to go. His willingness to teach, provide, and be patient propped me into a position to pursue my dreams and passions. I visited agong many times in Taiwan. Sometimes for a few months and began to integrate into his lifestyle. Be it watering the hand-made vegetable plot boxes in front of his apartment in kinmen, going to dinners with him and his friends, walking the kinmen military beaches, push up contests, watching gladiator and world war 2 movies, being taken to table tennis lessons and seeing him peek from the community center window, and long 5-10 mile hikes up the mountain, there was always something he wanted to show me. He was always joyful and enthusiastic, putting a smile on my face even when I was tired and confused about life. But the power in Agong was how much he genuinely cared . Cared for me, and all the people around him. He always made sure I was well fed and would constantly ask my mom through face time if I was eating enough. He would check up on me and my sister and always motivate us to continue studying hard in school. His presence pushed us all to look to achieve a little more. One way this was and though it might seem minute was through exercise. Even in his 70’s, Agong was incredibly fit and healthy. He could do what seemed like hundreds of pushups and when I got tired hiking (even with the young vigorous energy) he could keep going. When we ate together it was a balanced meal with grains, meats, and vegetables. His energy for someone in the 70’s was incredible and because of it I also slowly picked it up and became more energetic and passionate for my health as well. His love for exercise encouraged me to play lacrosse and hockey and he always supported my love for the sports. This passion for health was seen through his practice as a well respected and loved doctor in kinmen and reflected in so many other aspects of his life as well. He was a fighter, even through the struggles and big major roadblocks like the airplane crash he survived through. This inspired me in my hardest times as well. During my worst injury, I looked back on agongs success story and his undying spirit to drive myself forward. His strength and determination helped me to overcome my pain and push forward the positive chain of his efforts. Finally, in my college years I began to question the person I was and sometimes days were very rough and confusing. I could always rely on agong, calling him through facetime, and feeling better after being in his smiley and energetic presence. Speaking about my memories with agong brings me right back to my childhood, reminding me of how much he was with me during these times helping me craft the beautiful memories that push me forward today. It would be an understatement to say he was not one of the most impactful people on me and that his lessons have carried over a lot from when I was a kid all the way now into the present. So as a bowl of beef noodle soup and mid day siesta, lets remember the way agong empowered us to start the rest of our days.
David Liu
2/8/2025 - Presented at the Celebration of Life From Mary Tao: I’ll share a Facebook post I wrote about Dad in December 2020, during the height of the pandemic. Most of you know his great legacy stated in this post. I’ll then share how the story ended. This nearly 80-year-old man: * Born during WWII * Lost his beloved daughter Lisa to cancer when she was 18 * Airplane crash survivor with a ruptured aorta and multiple fractures * Not residing in a nursing home * Can’t sit still for even 5 minutes * Checked himself out of the hospital, took the same airline, and headed straight back to his patients * Started a medical mission with annual trips to Belize the following summer * Mind sharper than us younger doctors * Hands still steady without any tremors while suturing in the middle of a chaotic makeshift clinic * A hero to all the students who dearly call him Dr. Liu Sr. * Donated all his assets (and airline compensation money) to the mission * Never cared for money or fame, but God provided plenty of love, joy, and peace throughout his life * Led his Kinmen County as the chairman of the medical association, maintaining an impressive record of zero COVID cases so far * Just got voted unanimously to continue his leadership as the oldest chairman on record * Made the certified manufacturer work overtime and got us the N95 masks to give to the Belize frontline workers * This crazy, loving, and energetic old man—so proud to call him my dad! * Perfect example of how to live life to the fullest with joy, peace, and hope no matter what life brings him ❤️ Dad came to stay with Dave and his family in 2022, a little more than a year after his doctor in Taiwan advised him to come to the US and spend his last 3 to 6 months with his family. In his usual nature, he defied medical statistics, enjoyed wonderful father-and-son bonding time with Dave & his family (Dave will probably share more on this later), became a star patient to the other best doctor I know, Dr. Liu Jr., transformed this backyard you see into an art piece, and continued living life to the fullest. For those of you who live far away or want an update on his last days, he was admitted about 2 months ago due to a GI bacterial infection. His condition rapidly deteriorated with overwhelming sepsis 2 days before his passing, and he was taken to the UCSD ER, then admitted to the ICU in delirium. He was alert but unable to understand speech, recognize people, or make understandable sounds. On his last day, the ICU gave us as much time as we needed to say goodbye. He drifted in and out of consciousness and was able to recognize some of you on FaceTime. After everyone had the chance to say goodbye, it was just our cousin Michael, Dave, and me in his room. For a moment, he became very lucid and seemed to recognize Michael. By God’s amazing love and grace, Michael asked if he could lead my dad in a prayer to accept Jesus and let Jesus take him home. To our amazement, my dad nodded his head multiple times and eagerly watched Michael as he led the prayer. Periodically, Michael would ask my dad to say Amen, and he did!! The "amens" were the only words he spoke during those entire 2 days. After the prayer, my dad looked up at the ceiling with tears in his eyes, his face showing such peace and joy. His breathing became normal, and he looked so relaxed and peaceful. Afterwards, he stayed lucid for a few more hours and even smiled when his granddaughters playfully took his fingerprints with the toy kit they received from the hospital. He passed away in such peace and dignity. As you can see, the story never ended. The ripple effect of his love and passion continues to expand through those positively influenced by him. He never died; he just relocated to a much better place called Heaven. One day, we will all see him again and chitchat about the good old days.
David Liu
2/8/2025 - Presented at the Celebration of Life From David Liu: "We are here today for my dad, but I would not have made it without my wife Melissa for holding me together, doing all the heavy lifting, my daughter Sierra for holding my hand, my daughter Aria for keeping me going, and my sister Mary and brother Terry for the infinite support and love for me and my family! My dad inherited his intelligence, wit, and attention to detail from his father, who was a policeman during the Japanese occupation of Taiwan before WW2. But he owed his heart and compassion to my grandmother. When my dad was in the 2nd grade, he and friends were out in the muddy streams catching mudskippers, when he fell gravely ill with fever, delirium, and had difficulty breathing. Village elders told his mother that the child is too ill and will never recover… forget him. She refused and walked for hours, taking him to the city center to get care. She slept next to him, cared for him, rocking him awake whenever he stopped breathing. Disease turned out to be meningitis and claimed the lives of 11 of 12 kids in the village - only my dad survived. After recovery, he had the sequelae of uncontrollable shaking of his hands, incapable of holding still. My grandfather, the tough disciplinarian, would whip his hands every time they shook and commanded that he stops shaking. And through sheer will the hands stopped shaking. My dad forever thanks my grandmother for saving his life but credits my grandfather for saving his career as a surgeon… and a skilled surgeon he is. His one-handed suturing skills are incredible. He wields the scalpel with the same dexterity on both sides. There’s a Hakka Haiku that he learned from his mother that governed his life, wise words he taught me 2 years ago, when his cancer recurred, and we were ready to start proton radiation. “Osi mu tsue, uan fu to”. It means literally: Don’t blame the buddha if you’re constipated and can’t produce poop. Take ownership. Be responsible for your own actions. I was 7yrs old, playing on the roof top garden of my dad’s hospital and deeply cut my lower lip on a protruding nail on low wall. While he was stitching my lip, I cried and was inconsolable. He calmly said, “the nail was minding its own business, why did you have to go bother it with your lip”. It was strangely rational and disturbing at the same time. When I got into Yale, I was ecstatic and showed him the acceptance letter. His surprising quip haunts me to this day as he merely said, “why not Harvard”! He would never admit to being proud of me, in front of me. But he really was. Christmas of my freshman year, while at home, he was drinking with friends and I overheard him say a little too loudly, “well, that’s nothing… my son goes to the same school as George Bush!”. My dad was tough love all the time. Until these last few years. A change to his toughness was a soft gentleness that was even more enduring. I remembered helping him shower for the very first time. He was clearly uncomfortable… giving up all that dignity, letting go all that privacy, for me. After wrapping him up he thanked me and said “when you were little, I washed your butt, and now you wash mine. Thank you for washing my butt”. We laughed."
Copyright © 2026 Keeper Memorials, All rights reserved.