CHINA: For more than 80 years, Du Huzhen held onto the hope of reuniting with her husband, who left for military service in the early 1940s and never returned. On March 8, at 103 years old, she passed away peacefully at home, her wait coming to an end.
The centenarian’s family, in an obituary, did not disclose the cause of death but shared a deeply moving detail—Du spent her final moments clutching a pillow cover from her 1940 wedding. A symbol of love and devotion, it embodied a lifetime of longing for a reunion that never came. Her story, a testament to resilience and unwavering love, was reported by South China Morning Post.
Du was three years older than her husband, Huang Junfu, who enlisted in the Kuomintang Army soon after their marriage. In 1943, they reunited briefly during his military service. However, soon after she became pregnant, Du returned home, where she gave birth to their son, Huang Fachang, in January 1944. Just days later, Huang left again—this time for his mother’s funeral. It was the last time Du would see him.
For years, letters arrived. The last, written in January 1952 from a construction site in Malaysia, spoke of hope. “There will definitely be some time for our reunion,” Huang wrote, unaware it would never come. Though he had settled abroad after leaving the army, he never returned.
Du, however, continued to hold out hope. For decades, she worked tirelessly to support her family, taking on farm labour during the day and weaving straw sandals and cloth by night. Though she received marriage proposals in the years that followed, Du rejected them, saying, “What if he returns someday?”
Her granddaughter, Huang Liying, remembered Du as a resilient and optimistic woman. “Grandma was illiterate and lived a tough life, but she was always positive,” she said. Du’s encouragement for her grandchildren to study hard and contribute to society became a central part of her legacy.
Huang Fachang, Du’s son, grew up to become a middle school teacher in the late 1970s, after competing with hundreds of others for the position. He passed away in 2022.
Over the years, the family made every effort to find Huang Junfu, placing notices in newspapers and hiring agencies overseas. Government records showed he moved from Malaysia to Singapore in the 1950s, but no further trace of him was found.
In her final moments, Du’s granddaughter believes she may have found peace, as if she had reunited in spirit with her long-lost husband. “It was as if she saw a vision of him,” Liying said. The family, still filled with love and hope, remains committed to fulfilling Du’s wish of finding Huang Junfu and learning more about his descendants, continuing her decades-long quest for closure.
Du Huzhen’s story is a quiet but powerful reminder of love, devotion, and the strength of hope, even in the face of a lifetime of waiting.