Philip Chan

Philip Chan loved fried eggs on top of rice noodles, studying the stock market, watching National Geographic programs about lion prides, and “bullshitting” with his caregivers and friends. His heart was big, even though he thought it wasn’t big enough. After a lifelong struggle with rheumatoid arthritis and a short battle with colon cancer that metastasized to his liver, Phil Chan, 72, of Redmond, Washington, returned home to God, his Maker, on March 12, 2026.

Third of five brothers, Phil was born in Bangkok, Thailand, in 1953, to mother Choi Yin Hui with whom he shared a similar temperament and respect for cleanliness, and to father Cheung Han, who taught his boys that “you can always see the good in something if you look long enough”. In his youth, Phil enjoyed the rainy season, when he and his brothers could stomp through muddy ponds and catch fish (and even an eel!) for that night’s dinner. Between the ages of 5 and 17, Phil attended Holy Redeemer International Catholic School in Bangkok, where he teased the nuns, relished his basketball nickname “Giraffe” (because he was the tallest player on the team!), and scrambled around the tennis court. When he was 14, Phil’s dreams of improving his tennis game were dashed by a diagnosis of juvenile rheumatoid arthritis and thus began a series of lifelong health challenges through which Phil showed amazing courage and strength.

Embracing his sense of adventure, Phil moved across the world to study at Louisiana State University, where he discovered a passion for landscape architecture (and the value of trees for beautifying the land!), learned to live off a packet of ramen noodles and a Coke over a weekend, and graduated with a BS before moving to Pasadena, California, where he took on a role in his father’s client’s business as a liaison in the textile manufacturing industry. It was while working in Pasadena that Phil received sponsorship toward his American citizenship. Wanting to be closer to family, Phil moved to Redmond, Washington in the 1980s, and helped his father establish an import business in Seattle until retiring in 1995.

Phil was a proud owner of a tidy, yellow house in the Trilogy community, where he cheered his lungs out for the Seattle Seahawks, maneuvered his big brown chair up and down to accommodate his aching body, set up systems throughout the house that allowed him independence and dignity, rode his exercise bike to strengthen his lungs (for cheering on his teams, of course!) and invited anyone who walked through the door to eat noodles and drink a Coke with him.

Phil considered Redmond United Methodist Church his home church and was a faithful supporter of its Open Kitchen and Redmond School Break Food Box Program ministries.

Phil will always be remembered for his deep understanding of the immigrant experience and for his desire to make people’s lives better with his generosity and care. Always wondering what his friends saw in him, Phil didn’t understand that the answer was easy: Being with Phil felt like a safe place for friends to be themselves, to speak their truths, and to argue with him if necessary! Phil never claimed to be perfect, and that’s why he was so loved; beneath the gruff exterior was a mischievous little boy who stomped and teased, a guy who loved to drive his car fast and listen to rock and roll, a dying man who shared his fears, dreams, and memories, and a friend who wanted to love and to be loved.

Phil is survived by his 4 brothers - Stephen, Wilson, Samuel, and David and will be dearly missed by his caregivers and friends.

A private burial will be held at Sunset Hills Memorial Park in Bellevue, Washington.

Love doesn’t die,

people do.

So, when all that’s left of me is love, give me away.

– Merrit Malloy