There was a great article in NYT last week titled What Broke My Father’s Heart. The first paragraph sounded slightly like the beginning of a bad murder mystery: as the father slept in the bedroom upstairs, downstairs in the parlor, the mother asks the daughter to help turn off his pacemaker over a cup of Earl Grey tea.
The story was not one of suspense, but rather, one of sorrow, regret, and anger. At the advice of a surgeon, an elderly couple chose to put a pacemaker in the husband’s chest in order to receive an urgent surgery. Then as the years went by, his heart beat steadily while his mind withered away, until he was too demented to eat, sit, or speak. She cared for him lovingly and diligently, with the help of social workers and anti-depressants, lamenting in her journal to once again see the man she married, not this frail body with a strong heart but missing the soul.
There were many issues brought up in the article, ethical considerations, inadequacies in current legislation, etc. But in the end, it’s really a question of how people define “life”. As the world embraces technology, the lines between man-made and god-given get a little blurrier everyday. Whereas a few decades ago losing a limb could kill you, now people live with prosthetic limbs, mechanical hearts, and silicon breasts as if they were just a natural part of the body. How much of the body can you replace before it stops being “me”? Or, as long as the mind is genuine, the identity known as “me” will continue to exist?
Body and mind. I just think it’s a terrible existence for one without the other. Before I had the intelligence to make sense of the world, I was probably profoundly curious about this body I came in. Hands that let me feel the warmth of my mom’s skin, feet that allowed me to move from one exciting surrounding to another, eyes that let me see the brilliance of colors before I knew their names. My mind can only develop as far as my body would allow it to. So, as much as we’d like to think our spirit/soul/mind transcends the body, the essence of what makes each individual unique is still our experiences. One could argue that many things could be learned without ever stepping out of a room. Many great philosophers thought and wrote about things they’ve never experienced. But does that constitute an individual? The things you learn from books that so many others have also read? To me, it’s not until you combine that which you learn from others with what you experience yourself does it become yours (sounds like something my English teacher said about plagiarism).
We figure out pretty soon that life is ever changing. Although sometimes we don’t notice how much we ourselves have changed in the course of time. As we age, we lose old memories much quicker than we make new ones. Same with the ability to do things with our bodies. Then we face the inevitable realization that death is the only certainty in life. Hopefully by then we’ve lived a full life with wonderful memories. Granted there will be regrets. Places you haven’t had a chance to visit, things you haven’t had the courage to try, people you can never spend enough time with. Anyone who thinks they’ve done everything there is to do in life is crazy. But the fact that we have limited time on this earth is what makes life so precious. And maybe, the unknown mysteries after this life ends will offer us another opportunity. So as much as we long to stay, I think there is a time when you should be able to say I’m ready to leave, rather than letting a machine take over a body without a soul. And it’s sad to see that sometimes before you even have the chance to protest, you are stripped of the choice to decide how to start that next journey.
I visited a cemetery this weekend. It was one of the most beautiful gardens I’ve ever stepped foot in. As I read the stories people wrote about names deemed worthy of remembrance, I wondered whether I would like to have a place in a place like this, where loved ones could come visit once in a while and a stranger might wander past and make up curious stories about my life. Then I decided (confirmed, really) that if my body has turned to dust and my soul is somewhere else, it really doesn’t matter whether there’s still a place on earth bearing my name. If I had not left a mark on people’s hearts in life, I certainly would not stay in their memories in death.
So while I hope I still have many many years of wonderful living before me, I’d still like to say (to many wonderful people), I’m so glad you are/were/will be a part of my life. I hope I left a few happy memories that will stay with you for a while, and I hope they will become a part of you, as you have most certainly made me ME 🙂
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