The boundaries which divide life from death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where one ends, and the other begins?
Edgar Alan Poe
Every year during Chinese New Year, my dad will bring me to see his aunt, a old woman he respected alot. Daddy was still a poor kid back in the 1960s, and couldn't afford to pay for the 'O' level examination fees. It was my great aunt that lend money from her father-in-law to pay the examination fees for my dad. Till today, daddy is grateful for her kindness. Every year before we visited her, Daddy will tell us (the children) about the incident. Without her, Daddy probably will not be what he is of today. My great-aunt is a cute chubby old woman with rosy cheeks, a head of pure white hair, and with a heart of gold. As usual, she would offer me pineapple tarts, hold my hand in her wrinkled one, telling me "Ah di ah, jia, jia." (Litte boy, eat, eat in teochew). Today, in Ward 53 of NUH, I saw daddy crying as the nurse forced the medicine dissolved in water down her throat using a syringe. Lying in front of the bed was a thin, haggard old woman who no longer smile, and is too weak to even speak up. I almost could not recognise her except for her head of white hairs that remains the same since I was a young boy. She held my dad's hand, looked dearly into his eyes as daddy tried to make her drink some milk which she spilled out eventually. A motherly affection I saw in her eyes, a misery love I saw in dad's watery eyes, and I turned my head away. I couldn't bear to see this... Liver cancer is killing her, and 6 months more is what she has.
Right below her, in Ward 43, lies a young chap who just had an operation to remove cancerous tissues from the colon. Days ahead of him is chemotherapy, blood tests, injections and eventually, death. The cancerous cells has spread to his livers, and the doctor said he probably has a year or two to live. This young chap was my favourite maternal cousin who bought me sweets since I was a young kid, and my mum told me that I loved to be carried by him when I was a toddler. He was also the one who taught me how to fish when I grew up, and would join me and my family for fishing trips every now and then. He didn't finished primary school, and would occasionally popped by my house, asking me to help him read letters. Just last week, he came over and handed me this medical report, a diagnosis test, colon cancer at stage 4. He couldn't believe what the doctor said in that fateful afternoon, and told me to read through it again. All I could to do was to confirm what the doctor told him...
Life is pleasant, death is peaceful, but it's the transition that matters. Hopefully, miracles could have happened. Life is like a game of cards, the way you play it is free will, but eventually you will still draw the death card. Humans will die one day or another, and living life to the fullest would have been the greatest joy ever. Life is a tragedy for those who feel, and a comedy for those who think. I choose to think.
Right below her, in Ward 43, lies a young chap who just had an operation to remove cancerous tissues from the colon. Days ahead of him is chemotherapy, blood tests, injections and eventually, death. The cancerous cells has spread to his livers, and the doctor said he probably has a year or two to live. This young chap was my favourite maternal cousin who bought me sweets since I was a young kid, and my mum told me that I loved to be carried by him when I was a toddler. He was also the one who taught me how to fish when I grew up, and would join me and my family for fishing trips every now and then. He didn't finished primary school, and would occasionally popped by my house, asking me to help him read letters. Just last week, he came over and handed me this medical report, a diagnosis test, colon cancer at stage 4. He couldn't believe what the doctor said in that fateful afternoon, and told me to read through it again. All I could to do was to confirm what the doctor told him...
Life is pleasant, death is peaceful, but it's the transition that matters. Hopefully, miracles could have happened. Life is like a game of cards, the way you play it is free will, but eventually you will still draw the death card. Humans will die one day or another, and living life to the fullest would have been the greatest joy ever. Life is a tragedy for those who feel, and a comedy for those who think. I choose to think.
May God Bless Them.
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