Death and gratitude | The Manila Times

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GIVEN the date, I will write something about death and gratitude. My grandparents on my father's side both passed away within two days of each other in late 1983, and it was fitting as my grandfather was very concerned for my grandmother and was spared grieving and loneliness as he died a couple of days after. She had a very serious stroke that she never recovered from. Then there was a minor car accident, and my grandfather had a brain aneurysm which as a result made him lose consciousness two days before my grandmother died, and he followed two days later. It worked out very well for them as neither had to face life without each other, and both died peacefully.

My mother, who was very healthy, and would play and win trophies at golf and badminton, got a rare form of cancer that was not easy to diagnose and was told in May 1996 around the time she turned 62 that this was most likely to be fatal, and it was. We were there when she passed away a few months later. Her organs had failed two days prior, and we were told that it was probably a matter of hours, but it took longer. It was a Saturday morning, and I remember how the pulse rate kept slowly ebbing away then almost imperceptibly, nothing. Even with a minimal pulse rate, one may look sickly, but you know the person is still alive. Moments after death and zero pulse rate one had no doubt, the person is no longer with you. The complexion completely changes given the lack of circulation. Then a few minutes later, there is often a last expulsion of air left in the body. That may have been 28 years ago, but I still remember it vividly. I saw what the difference between clinging to life and death physically meant.