On opening my e-mails this morning, I had a request, I was being asked to look into my memory banks and tell what I remember of my sister as part of her Eulogy. This was very strange, for my sister had been given her death sentence six months ago, cancer of the spine, and what with not being able to visit, due to coronavirus, I had not come to terms with her illness or her approaching demise. Now for the first time, I was being asked to think about my sister and in the past tenace.
Life is much the same for man and chimpanzee a one-way ticket with no guarantee.
I really believe we have to have a serious talk about when we are pronounced dead. At present we are deemed to die when the brain dies (brain dead), but when did my sister really die? Was it six months past, or only last weekend?
In the film “The Horse Whisperer” Robert Redford playing alongside Kristin Scott Thomas, in this acclaimed film and novel. Redford plays the part of this rugged down-to-earth rancher not only has he an extraordinary give with horses but people too. In the scene in his kitchen, he tells the young girl about a boy he knew. A good boy, a strong boy, he dived into the creek one day and hit a rock, snapped his neck and was paralysed from that day forward. He was trying to tell the girl that the accident and the death of her friend had nothing to do with her, she did everything right, it was just an accident. He went on to say, I called in on that boy from time to time, but he was not there, he had gone someplace else, he was lost to us.
When did the boy die?
I am pretty philosophical about death, I certainly do not fear death, neither do I court it. What I do fear is being artificially kept alive, with machines, and/or boxes of pills taken each and every day, or worst still have no control over my life, held in suspended animation until the morphine wears off, then only pain, until the dosing pump kicks in once more.
I am seriously thinking of having a tattoo over my heart to say Do Not Resuscitate. God forbid, that I end up in a vegetated state after suffering a stroke.
I have had three sisters, all die within six months of having been diagnosed with cancer, all in the way I have described above. We really must have a serious talk about euthanasia in the country. The chose when we actually died should rest with us as much with us as the politicians and the doctors.
Death is our only assurance in life, let it come when the quality of our life is at an end, not when the brain dies and after prolonged intervention by doctors and medicine. Life must always be for living.
Sorry folks, but it has been one of those days. Keep well and keep dodging the undertaker.