The 60+ years old auntie next door recently suffered a heart attack. I had found out from her 70+ years old husband when I asked after her, and that I haven’t seen her in a while.
Uncle thewn went into an over drive about exercising and refraining from finishing the gravy of all dishes at every meal. He incriminated kway chup too. How dare he.
As he offered his wisdom freely, which I can’t overstate how much I appreciate him for doing so, I can’t help but replay in my head the scene from Robocop. The guy asks, “do you want to live forever?”
I don’t. I don’t even want to live to a ripe old age. If families and friends reading this are worried, I am healthy. Don’t worry. My reasons are derived from observing old people, most notably my grandfather.
I saw my grandfather losing his tooth, then teeth, then his mind. He was strapped to the chair the moment he turned violent from dementia and that was when he deteriorated.
One never knows what will happen to him or her. I don’t think that hunched back old lady on the street decided that he wanted to suffer from that disease. The affliction is possibly as random as the flu one got the year before.
Perhaps the desire to live to a ripe old age stems from unfulfilled dreams. But I have had sufficient agency right up to now. I have a portfolio of my own creations, brands, wide network of friends, and best of all, I spent countless hours with my parents.