i have an paternal uncle who was born dumb and deaf. and from the day i knew he was this special, somehow i had my reservations. perhaps, i didn't know how to react or how to communicate with him. nobody taught me how. and he didn't communicate with me much.
based on my knowledge, i only knew he did odd-jobs for a living. he wasn't married, and pretty much dependent on his unmarried elder sisters and parents. he smoked and drink heavily.
during my teens, i somehow disliked him. perhaps i was influenced by my mother, whom wasn't always welcoming his uninvited presence. no, he didn't stay in my house, but he would popped by quite often enough to take a snooze after some heavy drinking sessions with his odd-job friends. he couldn't go home drunk as he knew he would get a lecturing or probably grounded. so he had to sleep away the alcohol. some times, he would snooze for a good 4 to 6 hours before finally heading home for dinner. and he would always borrow a couple of dollars from my mum (or me, when i got older), for his bus ride home when he was ready to leave. my mum may be irritated, but we took pity on him and gave him what he needed. there were times where my mum would cook for him as he was hungry as he spent his last dollar on his beers. i'd seen my parents communicated with him in gestures, and i caught up a few. it wasn't fantastic but it was good enough to get my message to him.
as you can see, he wasn't the aspiring special guy around who could've achieved something big for himself.
i grew up and gradually felt that he's a pitiful character. he didn't choose to be born special. finally, he ended his miseries at age 55.
it all started with a lump in his throat and he had difficulty swallowing. only to find out that the lump was cancerous. i have no idea what happened, until i met him during one of my CNY visitings to my unmarried aunties. he was confined in his room, by the window, which an oxygen tank and a clear pipe going through his nose. i nodded at him and he acknowledged in response. i thought he didn't look too bad as yet. it was barely 5 months, and he said goodbye.
it was a long day today. early this morning, we sent the coffin to the crematorium, and collected his ashes 4 hours later. then we sent it to the temple, his final resting place, residing together with my grandparents.
on our way home, my dad blurted out saying how life just ended at aged 55. and i commented that it was better for him to end his miseries. and my dad cont'd saying how amusing his younger brother was, that he refuses to go under the knife to cut out his tumour. apparently, he had very little tolerance to pain. so i guessed his siblings left him at his decision, and his life slowly slipped away. my dad also said when he got to his hospital, he has left. i can't help feeling sad about this.
my brother and i were discussing how he could've been different, despite his disabilities. yes, i agree, it was his choice to be indulging in smokes and alcohols. however, i believed his upbringing played a part of who he was today. he wasn't given a "fair chance" per se, as it was uncommon to be special at his era. naturally, he would be outcasted.
oh well, he has left for good now. even though i'm totally not close to him, he's still an uncle who watched me grew up for the past 25 years. it is somewhat a loss, a kin, even if he didn't impact my life. nevertheless, every death i've met reminded me to appreciate the life i have, and how much we should treasure the loved ones around us. my heart wrenched when i saw his coffin was pushed into the incinerator...
if his soul is watching over us, i hope he heard us saying our final goodbye.
