THE PRAWN BLOG

MY TWO CENTS ON GRIEVING AND MOURNING AND SUFFERING

“Crying eases the pain,” the protagonist proclaimed as I sat in a familiar dark theatre, watching a Chinese play which I had hastily bought tickets to with a friend a few days prior. That phrase resonated with me as my vision became blurry. The play was about the Sino-Japanese invasion starting from 1937 and the hardships that followed. Though I do not have immediate ties to either country, the way the protagonist and his wife portrayed their grief after losing his brother, his father, and then their child made me reflect on my own losses earlier this year.

I have always found it easier to relate to, connect with, and empathise with pain, grief, and suffering when viewed externally, despite not outwardly showing my feelings. But half a year has passed, and it is time for me to collate and process these feelings while on this trip. Two is a lucky number in my culture. Things come in pairs – chopsticks, shoes, earbuds, gloves, lovers, oranges we exchange. But experiencing two losses within the span of two weeks was not something I expected nor was prepared to endure this year.

It was a humbling experience kneeling and sitting on rattan mats at the void deck under white tents, which my parents had told me to avoid ever since I was young. Watching the little kids walk past and exclaim to their embarrassed parents while they shooed them along; the cyclist who dismounted and tried to push his bicycle swiftly through the already narrow corridor; and the old auntie with her helper and groceries peering to catch a glimpse of the obituary at the front of the coffin – I couldn’t help but relate to my class on Happiness and Suffering I was taking that month.

My professor posed the following statement to us: “There is no such thing as a universal experience of suffering. Thus, we should leave it to individuals to decide how best they should deal with suffering on their own.” But I disagree with the latter. Because those who are suffering:

1. Do not know what is best for themselves because of irrational thought and clouded judgement.

2. Do not have to be on their own, because help is all around them, should they seek it.

3. Will turn to vices or other unhealthy habits to cope with their suffering, which in turn will negatively affect us – society as a whole.

Death is the one experience that binds us, humanity, together. Not everyone will experience the birth of their own child, but Death permeates our lives at every level of society. Be it that you are wealthy or poor, healthy or sick, religious or secular, Death does not discriminate. Losing a person close to you is suffering – the person you love and care deeply for is gone from this world, into the next. The physical and intimate moments you had with that person can no longer be identically replicated, with anything or anyone. The sadness in your heart, the loss of words, and the tears spilt indicate to others you are severely affected by the loss. But not doing any of the above does not mean one is not affected either. You should not take how one acts at a funeral to be the level of empathy they have for the deceased.

People say Death takes a toll on those closest to the deceased; and speaking from personal experience, they would be correct. You might have accepted the Death certificate, but that does not mean that you cannot want things to change. In fact, you would want to revert back 48 hours ago when your loved one was still kept alive on the ventilator. Or even a year ago, when your loved one was not in the ICU diagnosed with pneumonia. And this is a universal experience. People are dying every day. The Death of my grandparents is not unique, but the circumstances are. With the impact of such a sudden loss, I think I can now acknowledge the universal feeling of Death.

People who are suffering will swing from one state to another, namely enduring and failure to endure. People in stages of grief typically will go about their usual routines, trying to keep things business as usual if they are enduring. And there will come a point in time when this burden of stress, emotions, and thoughts is too much to manage, and they reach their breaking point. Failing to endure, their actions will become sporadic. They may throw temper tantrums, have occasional outbursts and sometimes be of a violent nature, or just cry to let out their feelings. I was lucky enough that the people around me – my family, relatives, and cousins – showed non-violence when they failed to endure during the Taoist ceremonies. The elders wept loudly and proclaimed their love for their parent while their children comforted them with tissues and hugs.

Being in a state of suffering will affect one's judgement and thinking. One may spend more than usual on physical goods to achieve hedonic happiness, masking the sadness, or to honour the tradition of the deceased. Others may choose to run from these issues, suffer in silence, and then go on to develop mental health issues later in their lives. A few days after, my parents were back to their usual selves, maybe putting on a strong front to go about their routine of work and chores. I do not know when the next time will be when they fail to endure, but I know that I should be there for them when that happens.

But not all of us have such a support system. Not everyone who suffers has the luxury of close friends and family members to comfort them, to upkeep their living spaces, and to spend time with them. As a community, we have the moral obligation to help those in need and going through hardships. It could be as simple as being a friend – listening to them or bringing them out for a meal. Sharing their suffering would allow them to build new memories, happy ones, to soften the impact of their loss. Sharing their experience would help them reduce their trauma when they are alone again, as they had already faced it together with someone they trust.

Lastly, those who suffer may find alternative ways to feel better, turning to drugs, gambling, or other vices to numb the feeling – anything to take the edge off the situation. There was an uptick in discussion among my aunts about the TOTO numbers to buy several weeks after the deaths. Not that a little gambling would hurt anyone, but I was wary of their actions nonetheless. Their sensitivity to patterns in numbers seemed to climb even as the memory of the deceased slowly slipped away. No one can predict if such actions will spiral out of control.

Walking clockwise around the open coffin, I took in every inch of detail from the cold lifeless body that lay inside. The ghastly white face makeup and the scattered belongings made me shudder, as I thought of the aftermath of the ceremony: the clash in personality, habits, and upbringing between the elders and their in-laws. Maybe it was a lack of vision and clarity in what to do. Maybe it was a lack of preparation. But nonetheless I knew no one could be faulted, and I just had to stand by and watch as the chaos unfolded, as I had predicted.

This made me reflect on how Death is still a taboo topic in many families. But does it have to be? Having your children ask about your Death preparations should not be shameful or sinful. Rather than seeing it as plotting your Death or counting down to your last moments, maybe understand that Death is a journey that begins even before you go. And as such, starting preparations is the responsibility that your children are taking up now rather than too late.