The Malay journalist wrote that when her grandmother's grave was exhumed, the workers found her remains, with her brain intact. Speak of brain power. They attributed it to the consistent nicotine intake, or perhaps even meditation.
Apparently, no machines were used. All the work was done by hand and spade out of respect for the dead. The poor workers had to dig their hands into muddy waters to look for charred ribs, and broken skulls. What a job! And apparently men's bones were better preserved than women's.
So that led me to a few thoughts:
Firstly, the frivolous: We women better get more calcium intake for all its worth. Not only do we prevent osteoporosis, we also leave behind more for the living to mourn when our turn comes to be exhumed.
And maybe I would want to be cremated instead of being buried. I mean, imagine the stress of your children and their children having to see their mom/granny after 30 years in the grave, unclothed and with insides exposed and stringy hair. I wouldn't enjoy that. Not to mean the emotional upheaval of having to go through the whole funereal process again, saying goodbye for the second time.
Secondly, when I flipped over to the obituaries, I saw pictures of the deceased at different ages. Some were really young. Like 34. Some lived to a ripe old age with listings of their descendants in loving memory of them. Quite a few of them survived to their 50s. I think reading the obituaries has a very sobering effect on most people. It challenged me to think of my life and filled my thoughts with questions. Whether I would be happy to leave the earth yet. Whether I had accomplished enough. Whether I should have children. What kind of legacy I wanted to leave. When is my turn to go. Who will mourn me.
I guess, every now and then, it is really a good thing to flip the pages of obituaries and reflect on what life and death has to offer. It did me some good.
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