Affairs

Barely forty-eight hours after my return, I have had to go through two important experiences.

The insurance man came by mum's hospice room to discuss details of a large payout. She had insured herself against cancer a couple of years back, and the good thing is that every single hospital visit, overnight stay at the hospital (including the hospice) and every single treatment and operation is covered and even compensated by the insurance company. That was a relief to know, as the hospital bills, despite coverage by the national health insurance, have been mounting especially as mum opted for better treatment to deal with the tumour in her spine.

Then the insurance man came up to me and started explaining to me how in the event of mum's death a life insurance premium would be paid out. I was still tired from the jetlag because it was early afternoon, so  I was in a daze and wasn't really paying attention. Besides, I felt very uncomfortable as mum was right there in the room. He got out a piece of paper and asked mum to sign it in front of him. Mum grabbed a pen, and I could see her hand was shaking. What used to take seconds took literally minutes. Mum's signature was wobbly and a little off, and she struggled hard to hold the pen steady. But the insurance guy said that it should be fine, or otherwise they will call back and verify on the phone if necessary.

The very next day, I had to sneak away and 'lie' to mum where I was going. I said I was just going home to shower, as I had not been home for two days, but in fact I went to meet up with my brother and my uncle (mum's second brother), and we were going to the funeral planner to arrange affairs. We did not want to let mum know, fearing that it might offend her or make her think we are 'plotting' her passing. But we know these things have to be arranged and dealt with so we are not suddenly caught off guard, like we were last time with dad's passing.

We made our way to the funeral home to discuss details of where mum would have her farewell ceremony (funeral), where the cremation would be, and we even looked at urns (but didn't decide on one). Most important of all, we were looking for a place to honour mum straight after her passing and before her funeral, for according to Taiwanese tradition we must have a special altar dedicated to the deceased, where the spirit of the deceased can reside immediately after passing.

We looked at a few places, and either they were too crowded or too expensive. Ideally, we wanted to have it at home, like it was the case with dad, but the building manager of the apartment we live in told my brother the other day that it is not possible to do so, because the building managing committee decided to forbid anyone taking the deceased back home. It is very surprising , for why does it even matter what we do in the privacy of our own home? Further, how can a building committee suddenly do away from eons of tradition that has passed down from generation to generation as a way to honour and respect the deceased? None of us are happy about this, for it causes a lot of hassle, and may in the end end up costing us a lot of money if we have to hire a special room to "house" mum's spirit till the day of the funeral. The rent per day costs as much as a hotel room!

Shortly after lunch, we returned to the hospital together with a Toaist priest, one mum has entrusted her spiritual "affairs" to be arranged by (it is the same priest as the one who arranged my dad's funeral, one I had serious disagreements with and sometimes skeptical doubts about his ability to communicate with the dead...). The priest wanted to come see mum himself to see how her condition is, and also to ask her some questions.

The priest leaned over mum's bed, while brother sat by mum's side. I climbed onto the end of mum's bed and sat by her feet. We spent sometime discussing how she wanted her funeral to be, and what clothes she wanted. It was a difficult discussion, more because we were not sure how mum would respond to all this. But she looked very much at ease, and was very peaceful and seemed alright to be talking about this all. I showed her pictures of the dresses I thought she would like, pictures  I  had taken of her in those dresses when she wore them last.

Though tired and her voice was very feeble, we talked for quiet some time. I kept holding onto mum's hand, silently reassuring her things will be alright, and to tell her in a way, with  a 'human touch', that I hope the conversation was not too difficult or awkward.