Meas Nga Hang Sak

Our loving and dutiful mother, grandmother, daughter, sister, aunt, and friend, Meas Nga Hang Sak, passed away on Thursday, May 8, 2025, in West Jordan, Utah, due to complications from surgery. She was born in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, to her father, Hang Sem, and mother, Trang Thi Danh. Nga leaves behind her longtime partner, James; her four children, Thida (Lak), Soryda (Eric), Jeanmarie (Rick), and Nancy (Casey); and her six grandchildren, Anthony, Lincoln, Colette, Emerson, Mara, and Jude. Nga’s life began in Cambodia, where she was the oldest of 11 siblings. A natural caretaker, she helped raise her younger sisters and brothers. While she often shared stories of an adventurous childhood growing up in a bustling city with a large family, her life would soon become a journey defined by resilience, determination, and strength. Fearing for their safety due to her father’s occupation, Nga and her sister escaped the Khmer Rouge during the Cambodian Civil War. They walked to Thailand while the rest of their family fled to various destinations. Nga eventually arrived at a refugee camp in Thailand and later at another in Indonesia. Despite those dark and difficult times, she always recounted stories filled with lightness, laughter, and gratitude. In 1982, she arrived in the United States with no knowledge of the English language or American culture—but with immense courage, resourcefulness, and a deep desire to build a joyful new life. Upon arriving in the U.S., Nga taught herself to cook—something she had never done in Cambodia. What began as a way to make ends meet and feed her family blossomed into a lifelong passion. She constantly learned, experimented, perfected, and shared her cooking. Nga found deep satisfaction in gathering her loved ones around her table and hearing them say her food was better than any restaurant’s. For her, food was also healing, and she often cooked for family and friends during their times of need. It is this thoughtfulness, care, and unwavering support that her children will miss most. Those who knew Nga knew how much she loved to boast about her daughters. She was deeply proud of their educational achievements, careers, personal growth, extensive travels, and the kindness they brought to the world. From her, they learned simple but enduring lessons for a happy life: find the good in every situation, be gracious, appreciate everything, laugh often, and “don’t be sad.” Nga adored her grandchildren. Everything they did was worthy of praise, and she showered them with affection and admiration. She gave each of them a lighthearted and unique Vietnamese nickname—a perfect reflection of her loving and joyful spirit. Nga’s kindness could soften stone. Her laugh was contagious and usually accompanied by a hearty clap. She made everyone around her feel safe, welcome, and loved. Her home and her heart were always open, especially around her dining table. Her presence is deeply missed by many. Nga’s family would like to thank all who shared in her joy, which doubled it, and all who shared in her sorrow, which halved it. They are especially grateful to her friends, who held a special place in her heart and reflected back the love she gave so freely. A special thanks to her prehab team at Monument Health Canyon Rim for their devoted care, and to the ICU team at Jordan Valley Hospital for treating her with dignity, tenderness, and the very best of their skill and compassion. A private family viewing will be held on Friday, May 16, 2025, at Serenity Funeral Home at 9 a.m., with cremation services to follow at 10 a.m. In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to the Utah Cambodian Community Buddhist Temple by mailing a check to UCCBT at 3325 West 3800 South, West Valley City, UT 84119, in memory of Meas Nga Hang Sak, or gather your loved ones and pour your heart into a home-cooked meal. Assemble the toppings and condiments with care, savor the moment together—and for dessert, enjoy a slice of strawberry mille-feuille from Gourmandise. Don’t forget to ask, unabashedly, if your food is better than the restaurant’s—knowing, of course, that it is.