We always say that whatever we do, make sure we know what
matters most to us, because that’s what will be on our minds on our deathbed.
Dad told me once: don’t forget that family is important, and
that you’ll learn many times in life, that if we chase the material, once it’s
within grasp you will look back and then realise so much had been lost, and
what is lost is too late to retrieve.
It hit home hard when I went to see grandmother at the altar
on the anniversary of her death, she lives less than a mile away from my
parents, but in 10 years I’ve seen her maybe twice. The third time she was on
her deathbed, unresponsive, struggling for breath and seemed tortured by the
manner of her death. What was for me to say to her? I’m sorry sounds selfish, I
don’t want to say I wish I can turn back time- My stroke of ignorance had already relegated
her to mere memory-dead to me a decade before her death, what right do I have
to say anything on her actual deathbed. It hit just as hard a year before her
death to see my gray and wrinkled parents at the airport. Was my 12 years away
worth it? Yes, but I can’t deny the many pangs of emotion mourning of lost time,
lost opportunities.
Since that time I strove a different direction, using
Dad’s advice to guide those little, seemingly ignorable decisions in life that
culminated in me ultimately leaving the UK, to China, to be closer to home, no
doubt I’ll move closer still when the chance arise. It took away many excruciating
indecisions, many dilemmas because I have a direction, a weighted reason to
give up the less important for what is most important. I have chosen the tried
and true cliché- I value people more than anything. I will change my career and
lifestyle, even my life’s trajectory to ensure that I maintain my relationship
with those I people that I value.
I’m committed to writing this down today because of recent
events; of a situation that forces you to choose between family and love. I am
not the protagonist of this story, someone dear to me is. All the same, she
found her love, someone she loves and is willing to do anything to be with, but
to have that she will have to accept a cruel fate, these joker cards that are
social stigma and religion. What do you do in such a situation?
She’ll always have all my love and my blessing, I want her
to be happy, and I want her in my life. No religion and social requirement gets
to dictate love.
But here’s the thing, what of the staunchly, vehemently,
disagreeing parents, that it is the marriage or the parents- choose? How? What
choice would sis have in such a situation? Frustration’s an understatement,
this feeling must be overwhelming, that in looking for an ideal outcome you
realise that actually you have no choice, no control, not in the outcome nor
the fallout- not matter how hard you try; like a cattle being herded into,
pushed by fellow cows along railings that ultimately guide you past those narrow
open slit, and beyond it into the abattoir.
Society have this way of influencing life, of imposing its will,
like an ether it is everywhere. It can be seen in every decision; It is behind
every love and hate you feel, every right and wrong you know. Fight it to discover
how easy it can threaten to change what you thought are solid relationships, it
can tear any loving family apart and once done, like a jihadist or crusader it
can just as easily pull on a veil of righteousness to say the end justifies the
means.
I’ve always thought- proudly and gratefully so- that my
parents raised us very well. They strove to educate us to be better than
them in every regard. We had higher education than either of them, we had fantastic,
healthy, wholesome childhoods. We graduated debt free and with financial
backup. Now, as adults we have better opportunities, we have great careers, we
earn multiples of our parents’ wages. More than anything, we feel less bound by
societal prejudices, we are open to new ideas, we don’t judge others by the
colour of their skin, we take people for the content of their character, we
respect differences, and we are decent global citizens.
So tell me how crushing the irony of our current situation
is? Simply being who we are, simply living life as we intend for ourselves is
testament to our parents educational efforts. Yet it is also the cause for this
dilemma, we may have moved on too far from them.
When life affords you the luxury of multiple choices, your
task is always an easy one- you choose to be with all those dear to you and choose
also all the materials you want. Less luxurious but more realistically is you
are only allowed one single choice, at a single time, but you can juggle, you
can time share- be with the loved ones sometimes, but spend other times chasing
gold; Cruelest of all, and a realistic rarity is the cruel choice between your
partner, or your parents and lifestyle. This is cruel because you’re on the
losing end either way. I think this is entirely avoidable, it is cruel because
it is a result of prejudices, I think to call it barbaric wouldn’t seem out of
place either- to allow the resultant of forces beyond your control, of forces
you did not adopt but were born into to twist and turn your every choice into
agony.
To me the answer can be simple, albeit courage is required.
The cattle abattoir analogy could be mightily descriptive, but as a solution it
isn’t useful, we are not livestock. As humanists we stand taller, we see
railings as something to just hop over, to get away from those who chose to
remain squeezed and bound - perhaps because
seems purposeful that everyone is in it together and going the same way.
Society is just that- it is a phenomenon of accidental coincidences borne of outdated
habits and legacies of those who came before us, with the origin reasons
unknown it is then disguised as prideful identify for which many had and will bleed
and die by.
It is oft said that age brings wisdom, what Dad told me was
simply that. May many more let it guide them the way it did me, then by the
very least we might have one less regret on our deathbed.
Written 22nd September 2015
Wei