death

Posted on by 0 comment

funny how priorities changes so drastically when you have a kid.

When Donald and I were living in Australia, and we were somewhat commitment free (cheap car, living in a rental property), the thought of what our deaths meant to the people around us never really crossed our minds. We were living for the moment, at least I was. The closest thought I had of death were my parents’ mortality and how they were getting on age, and how I was going to look after them when I was living in Australia. Insurance never crossed my mind, and besides I thought we could live forever. Hehe.

Fast forward 3 years later, and buying insurance was a huge deal to us, more to Donald, especially now that I am a SAHM. He wanted to make sure that both Oliver and I would be sufficiently covered should anything happen to him. We engaged a financial advisor (he’s really good!) and we had a chat about our lifestyle, what kind of coverage we wanted..etc.

I remembered after our initial session with the financial advisor, I thought about my mortality. At that point in time, I believe Oliver wasn’t in the picture. But I started thinking about our mortality. I never really feared death, it was more of not being able to be with my loved ones that made me worry (not sure if that’s the right word to use) about death. Maybe if Donald and I died together, I would feel be okay about dying. Haha.

Then Oliver came along. It wasn’t just us any more. I had to rethink about my feelings towards death. It would mean ensuring that the kids would be well taken care off. That there was a dependable trustee, and what if we died before they were of age cos that would mean we would need guardians. It basically opened this whole other thought process. Donald invested in better bike attire, a padded jacket, gloves, and a full-faced helmet. We were accountable for Oliver, and we had to make sure that we looked after ourselves so that we can look after him.

Being a SAHM, and spending so much time with Oliver has made me think otherwise about my life, and perhaps lifestyle. Donald and I had agreed that in the event either of us had to go, it would be better if Donald went first. Hey, mutual agreement okay. (Actually it’s about the money..sshhh haha).

Why? Because I know he would have trouble handling Oliver, and I could not bear the thought of Oliver having to cry his little heart out each time someone, apart from me, had to put him to sleep, or soothe him. (oh man..I’m getting emo about this now).

A chat with Donald last night brought upon this entry. We had gone out for dinner with my family and Raina’s friend who came to visit. Obviously the car could not take 6 adults & a infant car seat, so we split with Donald and I taking the bike. The conversation veered into how Donald was not comfortable being separated from Oliver, and how if something happened to the both of us. I had joked that “hey, at least we die together”. 

And he responded with a “What about Oliver?”. And that was when I got super emotional.

I thought about…

….how I wouldn’t be able to put him to sleep each night;
….how he wouldn’t be able to look at either of us for affirmation or just to make sure we were there with him;
….how we wouldn’t be able to watch him grow;
….how he would cry because I will not be there to soothe him; and
worst of all, how he would have to may have to call someone else mummy and daddy. 

At that thought, I cried. Hahah. And it was only a thought! I promptly told Donald that that’s it, we are never going out, and we are just going to lock Oliver and ourselves at home so that nothing happens to us. *laugh* Ollie will one day probably think that his parents are immortals, just like when I was a kid.

Sigh. Kids will cause parents’ hearts to ache in so many ways, but no one said it would be that bad, especially when it comes to this. Excuse me whilst I go stare at my child sleep now.

(PS. for new mothers and mothers-to-be, it’s not meant to be a morbid post, but my reflection of me maturing a little bit more and a reminder to live more sensibly and responsibly). 

Category: Love

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

eighteen − four =