The Plight of Pickle Uncle

When I was little, whenever I heard the distant "clanging" sound, I knew Pickle Uncle had arrived pushing his cart filled with pickles. The neighbors would all come out, and it was quite lively.

Every time, I would follow my mother and gather around the pickle cart. Pickle Uncle would always kindly pat my head, but my mind was entirely set on picking my favorite pickles—especially the red-colored, sweet-tasting gluten puffs, which, paired with white congee, were simply delicious.

This kind of life continued until I left my hometown to study and work elsewhere. Occasionally returning home on holiday, I no longer saw Pickle Uncle. I figured he must have grown old, and my busy life made me forget to ask about his whereabouts.

A few days ago, my mother called me to talk about the plight of Pickle Uncle. She said that in recent years, Pickle Uncle and his wife made a living by collecting waste paper, heading out every day at 2:00 AM. With the money they saved from years of hard work, they bought a small house to accommodate their only son, daughter-in-law, and grandchild. However, the son has been idle all day, borrowing money from underground loan sharks. All of their savings have been squandered by the son, leaving only the house. A few days ago, the son demanded the house from him again, and when he angrily refused, the son actually threatened him with a knife. Instead of lamenting that the son he raised with such hardship is so unfilial, he is worried that once their property is completely gone, his grandson, who is still in elementary school, will end up homeless.

To think that my reunion with Pickle Uncle would be under such wretched circumstances, and that I would have to use a basket woven from the Compendium of Six Codes to pick up my childhood memories—how lamentable!

To relieve Pickle Uncle's anxiety, I suggested that he place the house in a trust for someone else, designating the trust benefits as living expenses for his grandson. However, fearing that after Pickle Uncle passes away, his son might terminate the trust in the capacity of an heir, I advised him to declare during his lifetime, pursuant to Article 1145, Paragraph 1, Subparagraph 5 of the Civil Code, that his son has committed severe maltreatment or insult against him, thereby forfeiting his right of inheritance. Of course, Pickle Uncle could also handle this by making a will.

A friend told me that giving a single rose to the living is better than sending expensive funeral wreaths to the dead, so as not to leave behind regrets when it is too late. I keep these words deeply in mind. I wonder if Pickle Uncle's son will ever understand the wisdom of this saying?

※ Published in: 2004-5-11 / United Daily News / E6 / Diverse