Practical

Being mature sometimes means doing the practical and correct thing regardless of how it feels. Coz feelings are not based on sound logic and can be misleading, and if we follow that, we could end up on the wrong path. Of course, feelings are a very strong pull in any particular direction, and sometimes it means not that the mind is weak if one ignores what the mind is gently whispering and chooses to follow feelings. It could very well mean that the desire to follow ones heart, and the pull of ones heart, is stronger. At any rate, this is not a discussion on those topics. This is a dreadfully long, dreary disgustingly boring post so if you are not into dreadfully long, dreary disgustingly boring posts please hop ahead to www.nba.com where all the entertainment you require in this wonderful world awaits you eagerly.

OK. Disclaimer out of the way. We may proceed now.

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We shall begin with Case Study A.

My grandfather was a strong fit man, looking healthy and strong when young, and was able bodied. He remained brisk and active in his late 60s, and loved me beyond what I deserved. I remember him briskly stomping along, me trailing, walking here and there, bringing me proudly to the neighbourhood coffeeshop to proudly display to his friends. He was a wonderful artist, and drew the best pictures I have ever seen. But he died at a young age, in his early seventies or so, when I was in mid primary school. During the last years of his life, his body was ravaged by illness, and he had zero bladder or bowel control. To see my proud healthy grandfather deteriorate so rapidly, to see the last year or so of his life being a constant struggle, was painful to say the least. His hands shook, he stuttered and stammered profusely, his voice was barely audible. He reeked of human waste, and his mind was a shadow of its formerly sharp self. He sat in his potty included chair, humiliated, undignified, tears running down his face, as the smell gradually enveloped the room, awaiting his sons to come over to him and bring him into the privacy of his own room to wash and change him, while silence slowly fell upon the room as peoples faces showed dawning comprehension of the source of the smell. He was exasperated as he tried to communicate with me, his fav grandchild, who shied away from him out of fear, a far cry from our younger days.

Case Study B

My friend's grandfather was a healthy young man, and age took not its toll on him. No sire, he was strong and healthy as an ox, with a sharp mind, a sharper tongue, and an unwavering desire to hoard money. One day he was diagnosed with advanced stage colon/rectal cancer. Doctors presented 3 options to his family. (A) Take him home and wait for the cancer to destroy him slowly and watch him suffer in pain and await an undignified death. (B) Have him undergo an operation done locally, where the chances are survival are slim and if successful, chances are that he'd have to carry his bag of shit with him to shit and pee into everywhere he goes, connected to his body. (C) Bring him to the US for a surgery by this famous surgeon, which will cost a bomb, but has good odds of full recovery. Luckily, the family was wealthy, and could afford to send him to the US for surgery, after where he made a full recovery.

Case Study C

My ex girlfriend's granddad looked fit, tough, strong, even in his 50s. He was very healthy looking, and was powerfully built. Handsome, with rugged features and jawline, he must have made many a woman cast an admiring glance at him in his younger days. He was a hawker who sold char kuay teow, hence spending much of his time frying flavoured flour, and inhaling the smoke and watnot resulting from the frying. He developed nasal cancer. He fought and fought, but in the end, it took him. As he died, tears came from his eyes. After his death, he looked frail and fragile and frigid. He was white and pale, limp, just soft, unvibrant lump of flesh. The spark - LIFE itself - was gone. It was no longer her grandfather, but just a corpse. A body. This was not her grandfather, for without the spark that differentiates and makes us who we are, we are all just the same common lump of flesh, corpses, with differently arranged physical features. Our bodies are just vehicles and conduits of that Spark which we call Life.

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There are easily 10 more case studies but I am too lazy to go on.

My grandfather had a v bad discipline problem. He was gluttony, loved food, and indulged without any form of guilt or conscience in his favourite foods, regardless of how unhealthy it was. He listened to nobody, not the early and definitely not the severe, serious and reprimanding warnings and instructions late. My friend's grandfather had the same issue; loving meat and eating away like mad but without much water, vegetables and fruit intake. In Case C, he was a hawker who was exposed to the product of frying day in and day out.

These 3 are all lifestyle-caused deaths.

- The life-filled can become the sick weakly and dying just like that.
- Your lifestyle has a big say in how your flame in this world goes out.
- Hence wanton indulgement in an unhealthy lifestyle like a little child could lead to an early demise.

If a life is snuffed out due to an unforeseen and unpredictable and uncontrollable circumstance, there is nothing to be done about it. If one was on a plane and it crashed, well, too bad. If one was in his house and a lorry flew over a highway and crashed into the house and killed the guy, well too bad. If one was driving to work and a helicopter fell from the sky and hit his car and he died, well too bad. If one was walking down the stairs even and sneezed and hence lost his footing when his eyes were closed while sneezing and then died, its also too bad.

But to lose lives due to CONTROLLABLE factors such as a lifestyle choice, is the stupidest and most wasteful way to go out. It utterly disrespects human life, that which we hold holy, and is a disrespect to God as well to so blatantly have so litle regard for our lives, that which Jesus died for.

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Hence from a few years ago, I have been trying to get my mum to change her eating habits. I love my mother, and I refuse to have her experience the indignity of going out either with a shit bag, or as a corpse and a shadow of her former vibrant self, or without bowel control. I love my mother, and I want her to be happy and to lead a dignified life. I dont want her to suffer. I dont want her to have to suffer through and undergo the misery in the final years of her life. Hence I have been trying to get her to eat healthily, to forgo or cut down unhealthy foods, and to exercise more, and to eat more healthy foods. Sometimes she is stubborn, and sometimes forgetful. But I drive a hard line.

And my stupid sisters take offense to this. They tell me not to change her as it has been so long and her habits are ingrained after decades and I should just let her be. I am really sorry but to me, having made a mistake for a long time is no reason to continue making it; in fact, it should give one even more urgency/impetus to change immediately. They scold me and say if I loved her I should just indulge in her. Well I think thats stupid. Indulge indulge and then..? Watch her suffer and die? Of course it is easy to let her indulge because (1) they intend to get married and move off with their husbands and let me take care of my mother since i am the 'only son'. (2) they rather the mother love them and not get angry for denying her what she wants (3) they wont be footing the medical bill later. OK I know this last point is very cold hearted but reality is reality and when I have family and children and they have education needs etc I really really hate to let their opportunities be curtailed because the money that can be used for their education has gone to medicine for mother DUE TO A PREVENTABLE ISSUE. Unforeseen circumstances is 1 thing, but to be denied of an ideal situation due to preventable circumstances is just too much.

And I keep motivating my mother to remain on her trending-towards-healthy-eating-habit path by reminding her of the end game: that her life goal is to be able to retire and sit back and play with and enjoy the company of her grandkids and to be let down by your body when you are so close to your goal and hence render completely a failure of your entire life goal is just an absolute travesty.

I believe that if one loves another, one wants the best for another, and if that means making the effort to reduce risks by taking preventable measures, then thats what one should do. As long as both are constantly aware that the purpose is for the long term goal, and not for some sick denial pleasure.

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This might be what some people call tough love. I think when one loves another, one must be prepared to do what is necessary, and not waver when the other pleads to indulge in unhealthy lifestyles.