Live Life Well

It took one and left many shattered in its aftermath. The irreplaceable lost will be felt for a long time. Some cry, some are stunned into silence but the innate agony of even the strongest will inevitably be brought to the surface. Tears will flow freely, whether out of sadness, out of guilt or for affections that will never be felt again, ever.

Death – I have been through six of people who are dearest to me. With each one, I thought the experience would progressively make me stronger in facing the next. I was wrong. With each, I grieved deeper. Now I am the only one left from my parents’ lineage. I try not to think too much about it but with my progressing frailty in health, I could smell it lurking around every turn.

There was a funeral last week. The patriarch of the family that I have known for more than twenty years passed away on Monday. I was privy to the intense grief that followed. Uncannily, I felt detached from all that. Perhaps death does not scare me anymore. I have come to see it as a process of life, which it truly is. We come into this world, we live, and then we die. That is an irrefutable fact.

Amidst all that grieving, a funeral should also be a celebration of a life well lived. For one last time, it should be a gathering of family and friends, coming together to honour the memory of that one person who had touched them one way or another. It should be a time of thanksgiving, sharing gratitude that our lives, whether we realise it or not, have been enriched by the deceased when he was alive. Death may be the end here but it is also heralds another beginning somewhere. A funeral should be a joyous occasion on that account.

Detached I may be from the grief; my being a spectator to the mourning was enlightening in many aspects. Living one day at a time is just not sufficient anymore. That one day must be well lived. It must be infused with meaning and purpose. Death – although it still lingers in my mind and is one leech that is difficult to shake off, it is also an impetus for me to make the best of what I have. Hopefully when I leave, mine will be one that celebrates a life well lived.

Author: Peter Tan

Peter Gabriel Tan. Penangite residing in the Klang Valley. Blissfully married to Wuan. A LaSallian through and through. Slave to three cats. Wheelchair user since 1984. End-stage renal disease since 2017. Principal Facilitator at Peter Tan Training specialising in Disability Equality Training. Former columnist of Breaking Barriers with The Borneo Post. This blog chronicles my life, thoughts and opinions. Connect with me on Twitter and Facebook. View all posts by Peter Tan