Monday, October 26, 2009

Good Death...

I have a soft spot for the elderly. My own grandmother in particular. She can't remember her own favourite son but she can remember me. There's not one that she can remember. She repeats her questions like the old mother in the movie "Money Not Enough 2". She can even remember what I do for a living.

Remember the newspaper articles about being old and abandon? Grandma is fortunate as she's not abandon but to deny someone proper medical attention, I think I would rather be left to die in cold by the roadside. Catching for breath... I know how hard it was to gasp for air like a fish out of the aquarium. My own student died in my arms gasping for air.

I see thru everyone in the family. Want her dead and get to her million dollar possession. My own sister who always ask me to be sure that grandma gets what she needs as we are educated ppl, sang a different tune yesterday nite. She sent me crying a bucketful in front of the stupid rectangular computer screen. She was rambling about mercy killing and euthanasia, putting dogs to sleep...? Am I suppose to equate my own grandmother to a dog?

Simply put, everyone wants me to turn my head away and pretend that I don't see it. Nothing has happen. Everything is well and good and it should be that way. I do understand that it is not easy to care for the elderly. Sis talked about border line. We're only her grandchildren and if her own children want her dead and gone, there's nothing we can do. I may be less educated compared to her, I feel that there shouldn't be a border line where human life is concerned.

How do you measure the quality of a human life? Only God can do that...

It will definitely come back. It will be a cycle where her own children will die the same way and one of the granddaughter's will look from a far knowing that her hands are tied and she can't do anything to help except to cry her heart out... I'll always tell you that MONEY ISN'T EVERYTHING. You can't bring anything with you when you die. See... it's not a good life after all having so much yet nothing. It's an irony. The one's who are alive wish you dead but wondering what took you so long to breathe your last.

It was different for grandpa. I remembered they sent grandpa to the best hospital and get the doctor to come to the house at ungodly hours. My uncles even asked me to skip school just to visit grandpa. They arranged transport to ship us in and out of SP. They get everyone to fly back from every corner of the globe when they think he might not survive the nite. Surprisingly, for grandma it's different. Everyone sings a different tune... and I have to tango along. God bless... count me out... I don't want to be part of such family.

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