[140702] earlier part of this page disappeared in a disastrous editing error back around 2000. by some miracle, managed to salvage the [211198] entry, but a good part remains lost on holiday to never-never-land. 'recreated' part of an earlier entry in an email to a friend, abridged version here:
DEATH. more than 4 letters, why is it such a dirty word? spent a great deal of time thinking about death when I was a kid, much to e consternation of certain primary school teachers who marked down my compositions where characters just had to die in e endings. I didn't & still don't believe that all car accidents that occur in primary school essays should have zero fatalities, nor that all murder attempts in that context should be unsuccessful.
death fascinated me as a kid, after seeing relatives & friends die, cos it's one of e few things in which all men seem truly equal. maybe grown-ups simply have a problem confronting & accepting reality. maybe because they are e ones who are closer to having to confront & accept (whether willingly or unwillingly) their own 'realities'? in a secondary school essay I once remarked that family photo albums aren't a true reflection of life - they depict only the happy moments like birthdays & weddings. why e self-imposed 'censorship'? glad that my mum doesn't have such hang-ups. she never hid me from relatives' funerals, & I remember her taking photos at a cousin's funeral.
don't see death as anything bad, but an integral part of life. stories have endings, pets die, snails get crushed underfoot on pavements, speeding cars kiss stray cats e wrong way, leaves fall. life is transient, people come, people go, like actors entering & exiting life's stage.
April - June 2001: with each trip to e NUH RTC, new faces appear, wondering how long or short ahead e road is for them. & at e same time old faces disappear - some faces, having completed their course of treatment, will reappear with gifts to thank e staff & fellow patients & their relatives for e emotional support over e months, & continue on e road ahead of them. others faces, having reached e end of e road, will & can never appear again.many seem scared of death, be it their own or other people's. is it because we humans are such control freaks (our craze with technology, conquering nature etc), smthg in which we seem to have no control over (eg. death) freaks us out? or because humans are greedy, with our insatiable want for more of everything, be it $$$ or life, & are unhappy when we can't get e limitless amount we wish so hard for? maybe that explains why so many cultures have legends with e recurring theme of e quest for immortality. people always ask for answers, but I wonder, why must there always be an answer?
have you tried to make e most of your life? living without regrets, not waiting till tomorrow to try smthg new tt you have e chance to try today, not passing up chances to 'make memories' cos that's what lasts long after e people are gone, & be happy despite living in a world where there's always unhappiness around us? or have you been so caught up with life you've forgetten how to really live? will you realise this only when it's gonna end?
"Belief in our mortality, the sense that we are eventually going to crack up & be extinguished like the flame of a candle, I say, is a gloriously fine thing. It makes us sober; it makes us a little sad; & many of us it makes poetic. But above all, it makes it possible for us to make up our mind & arrange to live sensibly, truthfully & always with a sense of our own limitations. It gives peace also, because true peace of mind comes from accepting the worst."- Lin Yutang, The Importance Of Living
first read this passage in Reader's Digest in 1991, when it was still relatively affordable to read. & it has stuck with me ever since. anyway I think it's good to think about death, too many ppl sweep it under e carpet, & conveniently forget about what I think is an important part of their life. when time's up, I want to die happily =)
[151203 update]
In this lifetime, we die only once, so do it well - Phra Paisal Visalo
[ filed under: thewonderingstraycat + 9_lives_2002 + art1 ]
