Category Archives: the Finality of Life

Her Final, Mile…

It’d been, real hard, this, final mile, of hers, she’d, dragged on, for what seemed, like, an eternity, she was ill, starting at the beginning of her early eighties, or was it, late seventies, nobody can, really, recall now…

She’d been, in and out, of the hospital, during this, final mile of hers, and yet, something inside of her, refused, to let go of life, and so, she’d, held on, strong, with that final breath inside of her, refusing, to let go.

what it’d, looked, like查看來源圖片with, no end in sight…photo from online

It got to the point that the attending doctors, the primary physicians can, no longer, do anything for her, and stopped, all treatment options, but, she’s, still, holding on too tight, to her, dear life, and, nobody knows for sure, why!

Her final mile, it’d been, difficult, and that would still be, an understatement, for during her final days, she’d, struggled, too hard, to hold on to that, final, dying breath of hers, when all the vital signs, had, slowly come, to a, halt.

Her final mile, she shouldn’t have been, shocked back to life that first time, they should’ve, just, let her die, but her families, couldn’t, bear, to see her go, and so, she dragged on, for the, final mile, of her, life…………

 

 

 

2 Comments

Filed under Life, On Death & Dying, Properties of Life, Right to Die, the Finality of Life, The Right to Choose How One Will Die

The Heart Behind Nailing in the Coffin, on Filial Relations

Out of respect, for the family who’d raised her, a final rite of passage here, translated…

One afternoon, the phone rang at my house, on the other end, came the voice of a woman, “Hello, youngest uncle!  Long time no see………” Wow, could it be, again?  The woman seemed to have felt my concerns, she’d immediately added, “Youngest uncle, I’m not a scammer, I’m………”, and the voice, it had, sounded, a whole lot like my niece all right.  “My mother’s in critical condition, since she fell ill, she’d been telling me, that after she passes, to ask you to help her ‘nail her coffin down.’”.

Then the past all came, rushing back to me, my eldest sister was adopted, I don’t have that many memories of her, by the time I was born, she was already, married away, or, maybe, I should say, she’d, eloped.  Back then, she wasn’t getting along with my eldest brother of twenty years senior, she’d fallen in love with a man in the factory she worked in, in those times, the neighbors, our relatives, families, and friend all chatted on and on, my father felt that he’d, lost face, and, claimed that she wasn’t, related to him anymore; and even so, as my eldest sister’s eldest daughter who was at the same age that I am, she’d taken her home to see our parents, and my parents no longer, felt angered anymore.  It’s just, that my eldest sister didn’t marry well, her husband didn’t take care of her family, and, she’d, insisted on not receiving any assistance from our parents, used her cooking skills, started a market food stand, raised her five young up.

The following day, I’d, immediately gone to the hospital to visit my eldest sister, being ill, she’d talked with happiness, on the parents who’d, raised her up, and, regretted how she didn’t, treat them with kindness, and recalled everything she experienced back at our home, in the end, she’d, asked me, to seal her coffin up with a nail symbolically, and naturally, I’d agreed to it.

A week later, my eldest sister passed on, and, in the funeral, my niece started crying, told me, “As you’d gone to see mom that day at the hospital, she was so happy, kept chiming on about how you’d agreed, to help seal up her coffin, how she finally, had a true family of origin…………”

“Sealing the coffins with nails” was originally something that was done for unwed women who’d died, having the male siblings of her own family to check to see if they’d been, abused to death, if there wasn’t sign of foul play, then, the male siblings would then, nail in the nails around the coffin, and this became a sort of a ritual out of courtesy of the deceased woman’s respect toward her own family of origin.  At this very moment, I’d, finally, come to understanding of why my eldest sister requested that I be the one, who’d, helped her complete, this most important ritual of her life that came after her death, this was, her deep love, her remembrances, of our, parents.

And so, this, is a ritual of the family, and the woman was adopted, and, she’d, married badly, and, despite how she’d, gone against her own adoptive parents’ wishes, they’d still, loved her wholeheartedly, and, accepted her back into the family, and, the niece asked the uncle to nail her own mother’s coffin, not just as a way of fulfilling her own mother’s, final wishes, but it was, a sign of respect the woman had for her own family which she was, raised in.

Leave a comment

Filed under Life, On Death & Dying, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life

Lost in Thought, a Poem

On trying and finally accepting, the inevitable: DEATH, translated…

On the Day I Dreamt of My Mother

I’d Not Checked the Albums on My Phone to See

If the Buddha Had His Eyes Lowered

If the Background was the Mountains or the Cliffside

Don’t Lie to Me, Just, Come All Out

The Lenses, Too Worldly

Can’t Switch to that Boundary

The Mothers of Others Kept Aging

Becoming Those, Old Yams, Old Taros with the Bearded Roots

Walking Slower, No Need to Rush

Take Your Children & Grandchildren, Dragging Yourself Along that Stroller

In the Early Evenings, the Swallows Returned Back to Springtime

That Stumbling Shadow with the Back Turned Had Always Been Mistaken by Me

That It Shall Be, Returned, to that Familiar Address

The Storyline Shattered, and Crumbled Multiple Times

Slowly I Knew to Hide, so I Can Accompany This One Dream

No Need to Argue, No Need to Tell the News

God Shall Come by, the Eggshell Broken

It’s Best that You’re, Taken Hostage

And Get Hatched and Become Anything Else

What’s Meant to Come in Eventuality, the Crowds Appeared in Black-and-White, Silent in the Freeze Frames

There’s Too Much Logic Underneath the Sun

Circling Oneself, Enveloping Oneself

Using a Lock, to Escape

I am, Out

Walked in a Straight Line with My Own Mother

Don’t Clench My Hands Too Tight, Don’t Rest

And, Don’t Blink

So this is, a man’s, coping with his own mother’s, death, because, of how his mother is, almost dead, and he is finally, allowing the fact of what’s, inevitable, sink into his mind…coping with this, loss that simply can’t be, avoided.

2 Comments

Filed under Awareness, Because of Love, On Death & Dying, Philosophies of Life, Poetry, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life

Leaving One Last Play Behind

An example of how to set up, one’s own, final assets, regarding the divisions of inheritances, and one’s own, final care too!  Translated…

In the past, we were, coworkers, AND rivals too.  I’d, hated how she’d, talked trash about me in her conversations, but I couldn’t, help but feel in awe at how swiftly she’d, handled the matters at work, or how she was able to, realize something way before the rest of us had.  I’ll admit, I’m, a bit jealous of her.  After I’d, left my former place of work, I’d heard, that she’d, switched to working in another company too, and had even, gotten promoted to a manager.  Thanks to the internet, it’d, connected us again, and we’d, started, talking sporadically, about the things that are of, no important, matters.

Not long ago, she’d asked me out for coffee, out of curiosity, I’d, agreed.  The day we met up, she’d, lost a ton of weight, and, her eyes were, a whole lot, softer too.  She’d told me she was now, retired, I’d, prodded, “Would your boss let you go?  Wasn’t he the least bit afraid, that nobody will, fill your shoes?”, she’d smiled and told me, “he had to, because, which business owner wanted, to keep a cancer patient on the payroll?”, I felt that shock inside.  Turned out, she’s been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, the third stage.  She’d told her oncologist, that she won’t be going through the extensive treatment measures, only keeping her pain controlled, during this time period, she’d first shown gratitude toward her older brother and sister-in-law, to tell her only daughter that she loves her, that on the road of single parenthood, her daughter, was her one and only, biggest console; and lastly, she thought, of me, wanted to apologize to me, that from when we’d worked together, she’d always, talked trash because she’d, envied how perfect my family is, and how everybody in the office got along with me so well………..

I didn’t know what to say to her, and, all the encouragements, and words of console seemed, excess and unnecessary.  So I’d asked her, if she’d, set up her final affairs?  For instance, the most practical, transferring her assets, the properties and the cash too, I was so certain, that it was to dodge the inheritance taxes, she’d, totally have, already, transferred the money to her daughter’s accounts, but that was, not what, she’d done.  Other than giving partial of her assets to her daughter, she’d, donated some to charitable causes, and, saved some for herself, including the property she now, lives in.  I was so curious, as to why she’d, saved some for herself?  She’d told me she wasn’t, a stingy person, although she’s, dying, but how much longer will she be, around?  The doctor’s verdicts may not be, absolute, she’d hoped, that she could, walk her final mile in someplace familiar, her own, home, and, during this time, she would, need to, spend the money to care for her self, she’d, needed, to hire a nurse to take care of her, that she’d, needed, to take good care of herself in illness.  If she didn’t die, she’d not wanted to, rely on her daughter to help her live, although, the money her daughter has, were once, from her too, but she’d, transferred the money to her daughter’s name, and, it’s, no longer, owned by her.  She’d also told me, “I’d given my child so much, what’s a little inheritance tax on her part?”, it’d, made my heart shocked, such a different sort of parent, this was, the way, for a win-win.

As the shop was, about to close, we’d, asked the waiter to take a photo of us together, we’d said goodbye.  She’d told me, to not ask around about her then, she wouldn’t have any final rites, that tonight, was the last time we’ll, ever meet up.  She’d told me, “I want you, to remember me as right now!”

On the MRT, I’d, looked, at that photo of us, I’d, thought about what she’d said about her “saving a part of her own assets for herself”, I’d felt, that she was, a role model, for how all parents should, set up the inheritances to give to their young, she’d been, an, amazing competitor, whom I’d, learned, a whole lot from that’s for sure!

And so, this, was how well-thought-out this woman was, of planning her own final affairs, she’d, made sure that her daughter will be, taken care of, and, used the amount after she’d set aside for her own daughter’s sake, to donate to charity, and, saved another portion for herself for her own, final care, that way, she wouldn’t become a burden to her own young, and she’d, still, managed, to leave her daughter with something, as well as, help those in need too.

Leave a comment

Filed under Cost of Living, Decision-Making, Expectations, Lessons, Letting Go, Life, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life, Values

He Said He Was, Tired, the Dramas of Life

On how a father couldn’t let go, because of how much there is, keeping him in the world, even though his body is, slowly, quitting on him, translated…

The morning sun shone brightly, the green forests of Nantou made oxygen an abundance, we took in the deep inhales, and exhales.  He walked ahead of me, the destination: a nearby elementary school, for a workout, the step counter showed 2,130 steps.  He’d made a pact, that he was, going for 10,000 steps a day.  He’d executed this plan of his alone for months already, and, I can only manage to find the time, on the weekends when I didn’t have to, work.  I’m really, looking forward to the good particles from the sun, to making his body healthier, the serotonin, the dopamine, the adrenaline…………

“If I die, you need to, look after yourself well,” he’d stated to me.  “What happens to the child?  What happens to dad?  No, this is not the discussion I want to have right now…………” this was the conversation that began, many, many, many years ago, with a period of time of him in the hospital, with the medical treatments, to bring his life back to normal, we’d, moved to the mountains in Nantou, hoping, that the clean air can, keep him healthier.  Taking his elderly a hundred-year-old father here to stay was his wish, Nantou’s countryside is a great place, with the conveniences of hospitals, with the Veteran’s Hospitals, the Christian Hospitals, etc., etc., etc.  Although he’d needed the sleep aids to go to bed at night, and yet, being able to have these verbal exchanges with him, to fight over the television for the shows we wanted to see, we had, our, share of, a simpler life together.

Although, having to head back to the hospitals regularly annoyed him, he’d still, followed the doctors’ orders, took his meds regularly, kept a regular schedule of life, but don’t know why, or when it’d, started happening again, he’d, felt ill again.  His heartrate got past 120 per minute, he’d started, losing weight quickly, and needed to return back to the enclosures of the hospital wards.  I’d asked him where he’d hurt?  With his hand of his chest, he’d told me, it wasn’t, hurt, it was, painful for him.

In the lobby of the hospital, he’d, pulled on my hand, looked me into the eyes, said to me, “Honey, I’m tired now, let me go, let go of my hands, it’s really, painful for me to stay, I can’t, take it anymore…………”, I’d, let go of his hand, wrapped my arms around his waist, put my head, on his chest.  How I wish I could, get inside his heart, to find out where he was, hurting, why was it, that his most beloved father, his siblings, and his, dearest daughter, and his wife, couldn’t, make him, stay?

Sometimes, the body’s just, been tried too hard, and it wants, to quit, but the only reason why the individual is still alive, is because s/he didn’t want to, leave her/his families who loved her/him behind, like this is the case here.

Leave a comment

Filed under Family Matters, Letting Go, Life, On Death & Dying, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life

Meeting My Daughter Who Ran Away, a Poem

On accepting death, finally, translated…

She is My Daughter

But She, Ran Away

Perhaps, it’s the Wind, the Night Skies

The Stars, the Clouds, the Sunsets Tempting Her on

The River Flowed, the Grasses Grew

I Don’t Know How to, Call Her Back

She was My Daughter of the Past

Born, into the Night, Forgotten, by Sunrise

She was, Never, Returned to My Side

Only Left a Letter, at that High Tower of the Ancient Times

Under the Mulberry Tree, with One Solitary Leaf Fallen Beneath it

Before, the Hooves of, a Fatigued, Steed

Maybe Time had, Never, Left

But, I’d Not Seen Her at Chang-An, Nor Taipei

The Galaxies on the Posters, in the, Nighttime Skies

My Dreams, Premeditated, an Everlasting Dance

My Daughter Who’d, Left, Did She, Venture from the Life Before, to the Next Life Already

What is She Doing Now

As the Rain Falls, the Pond Pretending to be Asleep

That White-Feathered Bird with Its Wings, Damp, Flew Across the Skies

Those Pieces of Driftwood Stood, on the Distant Mountains

Walking Down the, Unknown Paths, Did She, Hear My Calls Out to Her

From Afar

And so, this, is on death, the narrator had lost his child, and, perhaps, she’d died, just a few days after birth, but, no matter how brief the time the man had with her, he’d, already, loved her very much, and, this poem, is his process of, letting her go.

Leave a comment

Filed under Cost of Living, Lessons, Letting Go, Life, Loss, On Death & Dying, Parenting/Parenthood, Philosophies of Life, Properties of Life, the Finality of Life

The Deceased

Translated…

The Wind and Rain Suddenly Came in the Middle of the Nights

Hacked Hard, at the Boards in the Backyard.  As Dawn Breaks, the Sun, Seeped Through, the Cracks of the Windows

First, it was, Cohen, with His, Lower Voice, Gone, then, Wanda and Her Smiles Too.  I Was, Once Like, Their Child, Growing in Their, Happiness.  They’d, Left Some of Whom They Loved Behind, on the Vinyl Players, Some, Oxidized with the DVDs, Some, Can’t Even Remember Themselves, Slowly, Dissipated, into the Air, Touching Those Strangers they Meet on Occasions.

As My Son Lay on Me Before He Drifts to Sleep, He’d Wanted Me to be a Boat.  To Rock, to Sway Singing on, How Much Longer, Can I, Carry You?  The Small Boat Has its Own Paths, to Sail, to Vanish.  But, I Shall, Return, I Shall, Keep on, Rocking You, Be it Rain or Wind, or that, Soundless, Sunshine Through Your Windows.

And this, is on death, on how we can, keep those we’d lost in our minds, and they’re not, really gone away, after all, NOBODY can, escape, death, because you were, born once!

Leave a comment

Filed under Awareness, Because of Love, Coping Mechanisms, Letting Go, Life, Perspectives, Philosophies of Life, the Finality of Life, Values