A thought about the big D

"Again?" that's what my maid said when I told her that I might come home late that day, as I needed to to for a funeral wake for a colleague's father-in-law. That's the second one in two weeks time. Yes, again! DEATH is part of life that is inevitable.

It's always so depressing to go for a funeral wake. We may not know the person, but we do feel for the family and relative left behind. And, like a routine, there will be talk on how it happens, and for the people who die because of certain illness, there will be talk about how the illness change the family life. Of course, there's always exceptional case, like my friend's grandmother who passed away peacefully in the age of 100, died in her sleep. But the last funeral that I attended, a 73-year-old who passed away because of lung cancer, was one of sad story. The cancer spread to the brain, the family did what they could, they sent him for radiotherapy, and that's after 1 year history of chemo. Part of his head was all black and burnt, but the saddest part of all, he suffered from memory loss. Not being able to remember the family, his reasons to staying alive. All of us kept quiet while we listened to my colleague telling us about the deceased last days, eerily quiet.

It got me thinking. How difficult it is to die with dignity. When we are sick, we automatically turn into a different person. We show the meanest, darkest side of us to the people around us, ironically, the people we love most. It is a trying time to the person and the family. We pity the patient. On the other hand, look at the family. Look at the spouse, the parents, the children, the siblings. The sickness changes their life terribly. Gone are the days when they can laugh freely without feeling guilty. What is left is just the feeling of helplessness as they watch their loved ones fade away. And sometimes, the big D seems like the great escape. How sad! How very sad.

Then again, I heard another sad story, of a colleague (that I never know of), passed away after he did his jogging. He was only 38 and is a father of 4. It happened so suddenly, so unexpected. He still had his half packet of peanuts on his office table. Who would have thought?

As someone commented to me later, "Life is just too short, too precious! So, don't go on diet, and enjoy the last piece of the cheesecake!"

Ok, maybe just enjoy half of it so that you can live longer