Death & Burials...

‘Ma…let me ask you something...’

‘Yes……..’

‘What would YOU want us to do after………… after you die’

I surprised myself. I didn’t know it would be this hard to ask the question.

‘Do you want to be buried?.... Or cremated?’

It was a very morbid question to be asking on a beautiful Sunday evening. But it came to that somehow as we strolled around the park. My brother’s good friend suffered a great loss just 2 days ago. Bobby’s father died of some sort of medical complication this week. His body was cremated and put to rest next to his late wife.. Bobby’s mum.. who had died late last year. Another old friend of my mother was also in mourning. Her father had just passed away a month ago and was buried back in his home town.

I recalled my conversation with a close friend, talking about her experience going through the process of arranging her mother’s funeral and cremation just a few weeks ago. Her dying wishes were to be cremated.

I consider myself still very green when it comes to issues about death. What are you supposed to do when someone dies? How are arrangements made? Do you preserve the body? How long do you wait? What sort of things need to be done? IS there something you should ready before they die? Is there a number to call? It’s delicate issue….

In my years growing apart from my mother, I never really stopped to consider what I’d do if she died. Many nights, I’d fear for her safety. Sometimes, months would go by and we would not hear a word from her…. and my brother and I would wonder if everything was OK, or if she was still alive. But some part of me always believed that God would protect her… and that she would be alright in the end.

But faced with so many news of death recently, I had to ask this question. I needed to know from my mother what she wanted not just in life, but also in death.

‘I want to be buried……’ she said.

‘OK. So you’re totally against cremation correct?’ I asked.

‘I will prefer to be buried if possible…. Otherwise, you can bury me up north in Sungai Petani….‘

Sungai Petani was the place I partially grew up in. It was also the place she had spent almost 8 years of her life alone.

“Do you just want to be buried anywhere that is available, or is there a specific reason for Sungai Petani?” I asked….

‘The land is cheaper there.. Over here it will be too expensive. And also….. there have been only 2 places where I’ve been happy in my life. One was in New Zealand, and the other was in Sungai Petani…………. When the family was still together.’ she answered.

I kept silent…. There was a lot to digest there.. Our old hometown was over 350km away… a 6 hour drive. Memories of the last time I was there came back to me. I didn’t like the place.. but if this was what her wishes were, I knew in my heart that I will not refuse it. How do you transport someone’s body 350km away anyway? Was there some sort of envoy needed?

‘We can do that ma…. But if it’s up north, what about all the people that might not be able to attend your funeral? And it will be harder for us to visit you…’ I asked…

She kept silent for a while. I immediately regretted asking the question. It – how stupid and thoughtless… But before I could take it back.

‘It’s OK… Just family members will be enough. And if it’s too far away, you don’t have to come visit my grave every year. A few years once is also fine……… but if it’s a few years once, I think the place might be a bit unkept.’

Again….I kept quiet. This was so typical of my mother. Ever the sacrificing one.. every the accommodating person. She was always offering to give up her food, or her time, or her money for us…. I wondered if this was more of a maternal instinct or was she just naturally a giving person. Whichever it was, I respected and admired her for this selfless quality. Even in death, she was still singing the same tune…. telling me not to visit too often if it was too much trouble.

I reached out and held her by the shoulder and pulled her close.. giving her a sideways hug and a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to reassure her that there would never ever be such a thing as ‘too much trouble’ to visit her grave…. But I didn’t want to say anything further, because I was afraid I would get too emotional. Just listening to hear say those things was hard enough.

Someone once made an observation to me that I was very attached to my mother. That person went on to express that should and when my mother pass away, I’d probably be hit hardest compared to even my brother. My first inclination was to argue that while I’d certainly be sad and mourn for a period, there was no reason to believe I couldn’t get through it. Plus…. It’s not like she’s going to die anytime soon. That was what I would say…. In that past that is.

But time has gone by much faster than I previously anticipated… and I realize that I must prepare myself for the eventuality of losing her and my father in the future. I needed to talk about it because I needed to know how she want me to act and how she would feel about things. But it wasn’t just about fulfilling her dying wishes. I think that my asking her these questions were for me as much as it was for her.

I needed comfort and courage in dealing with it if and when the day comes……. and I guess I wanted to gain some from her before it was too late. I will remember what she told me today. I will remember how even in considering her own death, she would think first of her children. Such is the great love of all mothers. She might be an unexceptional woman to the world, but it was still her hands that rocked my cradle.. Indeed, I would grieve most at her death.

‘Don’t worry OK.. whatever it is… we will sort it out. Everything will be OK. I’ll take care of everything…. That is provided I don’t die before you... ‘ I half joked.

‘Don’t say that son….. it would make me very sad.’ she immediately replied.

I held her closer. I think I know what she meant.