Moon Jin Suen

There are some people whose lives simply cannot be contained in an obituary. How do you reduce to a few paragraphs someone who was a brother, a son, a protector, a loyal friend, an athlete, a linguist, a photographer, a traveller, a giver, and quite honestly, a true genius?

How do we possibly explain what it meant to be loved by Moon?

Moon lived his life with an extraordinary combination of intelligence, curiosity, generosity and kindness. He gave freely and instinctively, whether it was his time, his money, his knowledge, or the emotional support someone needed at exactly the right moment. He cared unconditionally for his siblings and his parents, and his devotion to family was woven into everything he did. He protected those he loved, supported them without judgment, and never expected recognition in return. He was brilliant, truly brilliant.

His endlessly curious mind never seemed satisfied with simply knowing something. He wanted to understand it. A lifelong learner and largely self-taught linguist, Moon spoke multiple languages and moved between them so naturally that conversations with family and friends could suddenly change languages halfway through a sentence. Whether the rest of us understood him was apparently, a secondary consideration.

That was Moon. His intelligence was matched by a wicked, lightning-fast sense of humour. Sometimes his wit was so quick that the rest of us needed a few seconds to realize what had just happened. By then, of course, Moon already knew. That subtle smile often told you that you'd eventually catch up.

When something interested him, he didn't merely dabble in it. He absorbed it. He learned it. He got it. If something he wanted couldn't be found in Sault Ste. Marie, that was hardly going to stop him. He would make it himself, figure out another solution, or somehow track down an obscure book, game, or treasure from the other side of the world.

Moon followed in his Ba’s footsteps to St. Mary’s Paper, and for a time father and son worked side by side. Ba was so proud to share the mill floor with his son, and the two of them shared both the labour and the memories that came with it. Moon went on to give the mill 30 years, riding out the restructuring and the tough years right up until he retired. The boys at St. Mary’s became a brotherhood, bound by years of sweat, laughs and loyalty. Long after retirement, Moon never missed a chance to stop for a coffee and another “remember that time on the night shift…”

For someone who spent his life rooted in a relatively small Northern Ontario city, Moon's world was enormous. He travelled the globe. He learned languages. He pursued whatever caught his extraordinary imagination. Yet no matter how far he travelled, he remained, proudly and unmistakably, a Soo-ite. He loved and embraced Sault Ste. Marie. He was a dedicated Sault Greyhounds season-ticket holder and brought the same loyalty to his hometown that he brought to the people in his life. The Soo wasn't simply where Moon lived. It was part of who he was. Athletics were another great part of his life. A gifted and celebrated tennis and pickleball player, Moon competed with skill, intelligence and determination, continuing to play even during his final days with us. Being on the court was part of his joy, and he held onto that joy for as long as he possibly could.

Moon was also a talented photographer. Through his camera, he documented our lives and reminded us, again and again, that memories matter. Family matters. The ordinary moments we think will always be there matter. Those photographs mean something profoundly different to us now.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing about Moon, though, was not everything he knew or everything he could do. It was the person he chose to be.

He did not judge.

He loved.

He had a kindness that people could see immediately and a generosity that asked for nothing in return. He charmed people, made them laugh and made them feel welcome. He was fiercely loyal to his friends and deeply devoted to his family. It is difficult to remember anyone speaking an unkind word about Moon, because he gave people so little reason to. He simply had a good heart.

And now, ours are broken.

There are no adequate words for the space left behind when someone like Moon leaves us. There is no easy way to describe losing our brother, our son, our protector, our friend, our sounding board, our comedian, our teacher and our constant.

We thought there would be more photographs.

More games

More Moon humour

More languages we didn't understand.

More impossible-to-find things somehow arriving from halfway around the world

More Greyhounds seasons

More time

Moon spent his life giving pieces of himself to other people; and maybe that is why his absence feels so enormous. He was woven into so many lives, in so many different ways; but he also leaves those pieces of himself behind. They are in the photographs he insisted we take and the memories he taught us to value. They're in the family he loved so fiercely. They're in lifelong friendships, inside jokes, trips around the world, matches played, games watched, obscure things discovered, and countless acts of generosity that may never be fully known because Moon didn't need anyone to know about them.

His life is a reminder to remain curious. To keep learning. To laugh quickly and love deeply. To give without keeping score. To see the world, but never forget where you come from. To never judge when you can choose kindness instead.

And to take the picture.

Because Moon was right.

The memories matter.

There will never be another you.

Our brother.

Our son.

Our protector.

Our friend.

Our Moon.

What will we do without you, Moon?

We love you. Always.

Family and friends are invited to Arthur Funeral Home - Barton & Kiteley Chapel (492 Wellington St. East; 705-759-2522) on Thursday, November 5, 2026 from 12:30 pm to 2:20 pm. Funeral service to follow at 3:00 pm. Interment Greenwood Cemetery. Fond memories and expressions of sympathy may be shared at www.arthurfuneralhome.com for the Suen family.