Over the past decade or so, I find myself entering a phase in life when I’m attending more wakes (and weddings) than before. Unsurprisingly, the people who attend these events with me are more or less the same. It’s heartening to know that we make time to be present for each other during our various milestones and hardships, even though we may not have met up in months and are not even the closest of friends. There’s just something human about being there for each other together in those significant moments.
So yeap, I attended a wake recently.
Chinese wakes in Singapore are usually held at the HDB void decks or funeral parlours. I don’t know if there’s any significance behind holding it at the void decks, but it feels like a sweet gesture to bring the body from the hospital (or wherever) back to where the owner recognised it as home. During this event, family and friends of the deceased and their family come to have one final look at the deceased and/or provide emotional support to their family. It also becomes a massive gathering that takes place over a few days, except that everyone shows up and leaves at different timings.
I’ve never really known what to say at a wake. I am concerned about the well-being of the living person that I attend the wake for, but I see no point in asking if they are okay because they are obviously not. They are most likely putting up a strong front because they don’t want others to worry about them or they have yet to process their emotions. Not only are they internally dealing with the loss, they are also busy with the wake and funeral processes. While I’m also naturally curious about the cause of death and the deceased’s condition in the final hours, these are potentially sensitive questions and I have no intentions of making anyone feel more uncomfortable than they already are. When I try to put myself in their shoes and think about what I might want to hear from others, I know the things I don’t want to hear, but I have no idea what I would hope for others to say. Perhaps I would want to hear others tell me about their nice experiences with the deceased, but I’m also not sure if I’m ready to hear them. At the end of the day, I notice that 95% of the conversations that happen are usually not about the deceased.
Who said that we’ve all got to be crying and solemn at wakes? It doesn’t have to be that way. Imo, we can all have random conversations and engage the deceased’s family in ways to distract them temporarily from their pain. This is where the beauty/power of the human connection allows for the malleability in the function of wakes. This is also probably one of the reasons why we see people playing mahjong at a wake. I didn’t understand it when I was young but now, it makes sense to me. It’s okay to laugh and be respectful at the same time. In fact, I would make a fool of myself if it meant that I can help my friend feel better even for a short while.
Over the years, I’ve come to realise that it’s okay not to know what to say or do. Being (physically and/or emotionally) present already means a lot and this doesn’t end after the red string falls off your finger. Everybody is going to need some time and space to ease back into daily life. In such situations, patience and understanding always helps.
Take care, y’all!
コメント