The End of the Wick

Another relative is dying. A much beloved uncle. Mum insisted I make the dreaded visit once again. I am not a heartless gal but I had one uncle died on me the previous time (literally when I saw him) and it left much consternation that I may well face a similar situation once again.

I don’t do Death well. I hate seeing dying people because they remind me of the transience of life. Most of the time, I conveniently put this reality at the back of my mind and it comforts me to a great degree.

This visit is particularly heart-wrenching. What greeted me was a wasted heap of a man who was once so handsome he made girls swoon. He was reduced to skin and bones, had hollowed out eyes and the flesh on his back had rotted away as he had been bedridden for a long time. Deaf and unable to speak, his glassy eyes were the only windows to his emotions. But the look he gave was too haunting and it would plague me for a long time to come.

This is a man who has a beautiful house, a supportive wife and 2 lovely daughters. He had spent his life working hard at his business and giving nary much time for his family and his own leisure. What was unfortunate is that a good portion of his wealth is used to finance his medical bills in recent years and he never really had the chance to spend it more meaningfully than he would have liked.

It is painful to see him reduced to being a dependent dying man on his bed. As we went home that day, Dad said something insightful. He said “When asked about their greatest regret on their deathbeds, most would reply that they had not spent enough quality time with their families”.
Bravo Dad! Well said.
It’s true. When one has reached the end of the road, tangible things like money and fame doesn’t really matter anymore. It does put things into perspective.
“Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time... It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other.” ~Leo F. Buscaglia