中The “backyard” of my block of flats is our town’s public cemetery. One could catch a glimpse of it at an angle from my kitchen window. Some Chinese friends who are into feng-shui once asked if I was ever concerned that living right next to a cemetery, according to traditional Chinese folklore, could bring misfortune. Well, to be honest, I hadn’t thought about it at all when buying my home a decade ago. After all, my conscience is always clear, what’s to fear? (I guess those Chinese friends would now say that the ninja is exactly the kind of misfortune they were referring to......)
Despite the proximity, getting to the cemetery from my home requires a little detour as there’s actually no direct route, and that’s probably why I rarely walked past it all these years. Yet, one fine and dry day before my operation, I made an impromptu trip to the cemetery for a solo stroll.
I didn’t encounter anyone tending graves that day, even though the cemetery is in the town centre. Tucked away from the busy main road, one would find a few pieces of well kept lawn, trees gently swaying in the breeze and chirping birds in the peaceful cemetery, which on a sunny day couldn’t be more far removed from being a spooky place. The criss-crossed footpaths and roads were perfect for socially-distanced walks in COVID times, with long wooden benches spaced at convenient intervals for having short breaks to take in the scenery.
I started reading the tombstones as I strolled past them. The first thing I noticed was that many residents of this town, both men and women, lived to their eighties or nineties a century ago, when modern medicine didn’t exist. What’s their secret to longevity?
Lots of epitaphs were short summaries of life histories, and in most cases (including those from recent years) described key family relations of the deceased, such as referring to a person as a “beloved daughter” and a “loving wife”. Some descriptions appeared a bit clichéd, fitting into conventional expectations of gender roles, so for example it wasn’t difficult to find many “caring” mothers among those resting there. Hardly any epitaph touched on the career, interests or public service of the deceased, but I did come across a few exceptions: a doctor, a Catholic Father, a teacher, a musician, and a few soldiers who sacrificed for this country in the Great War. Why that norm then? Is there a standard literary style for epitaphs and that it’s disrespectful to the deceased if deviated? Local culture? Too boastful to talk about one’s contribution to society (being modest is preferred)? Or is that kind of note better suited for the obituary than the epitaph?
The risk of having a fatal incident during my operation is super low, which means it’s highly unlikely that the operating table would become my deathbed. Yet, if life has it that I am ever so “lucky” and I’m suddenly gone, what should my epitaph read?
My closest-and-dearests of course mean the world to me, especially when I’m alive. But I wonder if all the relations need to be listed in full in my epitaph? After all, to whom would that text be for? For my loved ones who visit and tend my grave, or the odd stranger passer-by to pick up by chance, like what I was doing on my stroll? If it’s for the latter, then the distinction of one person from another would be pretty blurred when the epitaphs all sound similar —— someone’s wife or husband, brother or sister, with sons, daughters or grandchildren, even though the names and dates do differ.
I see my epitaph as the headline or title page of the final résumé of my life. If my loved ones could select a few things about me that moved them or remind them of me dearly, then the text could tend the hearts of those who tend my grave, take away some sorrow, bring a chuckle, or even tickle them with some anecdotes of me that they had long forgotten. Wouldn’t that be beautiful? Maybe it’s the piano piece that everyone loved. My bad habits, my silly utterances. Or it can be my “warrior queen image” that they recognise. I love the variety! But first and foremost I must do some good to those around me, otherwise what’s worth a mention? Ha!
Most visitors coming for a stroll or run probably wouldn’t pay much attention to the epitaphs. But who knows, maybe occasionally there will be one who does spare a moment to read about those who have gone before us, like I did?