She had a happy death wish

I DIDN’T know her. I still don’t, but her letter made me weep.

Actually, it’s not just a letter but her final farewell, or as all the news reports have called it – her suicide note.

It was written by Chiung Yao who died by self-induced carbon monoxide poisoning a week ago on Dec 4 at the age of 86.

If the name is unfamiliar, then you, like me, are Mandarin illiterate and have never read anything she had written, which were romance novels. She was so immensely popular that she was crowned the queen of romance in the Chinese-speaking world.

My queen of romance was Barbara Cartland. I don’t know if Chiung’s novels have been translated into English, but many of them have been made into dramas and films.

Unfortunately, even though I watch a lot of Chinese dramas, I haven’t caught any based on her books.

Chiung is not the first celebrity to commit suicide.

There have been many who were famous in their respective fields, like chef turned author and food show host Anthony Bourdain, actor Robin Williams and fashion designer Kate Spade.

But their deaths were linked to mental health issues like depression.

Indeed, most people want to end their lives because they are in the deepest of despair and hopelessness and find it too painful to continue living.

But not Chiung. She actually had every reason to live.

She was extremely famous, wealthy and seemed to be in relatively good health at 86, although she hinted that her body had started to cause her increasing pain.

She chose to die because she loved her life and simply wanted to depart on her own terms, which she clearly spelled out in her suicide letter. It shouldn’t be called a “note” because it wasn’t a short “Goodbye cruel world” kind of stuff.

What she wrote is so eloquent, rational, loving, honest, bright and joyful, it wrings the heart. As mine was. In no way was she advocating suicide for anyone; rather she was life-affirming and urged people, especially young ones, not to give up on their lives easily.I wish I could share her letter in full but due to space constraints, I can only pick excerpts. It was of course written in Chinese and this is the English translation that has been widely published.

I don’t know how accurate the translation is, but I believe it has faithfully captured Chiung’s thoughts and emotions.

“This is my wish. ‘Death’ is a journey everyone has to go through, and it is one’s last ‘great step’. I don’t want to leave it to fate. I don’t want to slowly wither and fade away. I want to take control of this final step.

“Heaven has not designed the process of life very well. As people age, they must suffer from a painful period of ‘weakness, degeneration, illness, hospital visits, treatments and failure to heal’. This period can be long or short, but for those who will inevitably grow old and die, it is a great torment. If one is unlucky, they may become an ‘elderly bedridden’ person dependent on life-support systems. I have witnessed that kind of tragedy. I don’t want that kind of ‘death’.

“The beauty of life lies in the ability to love, hate, laugh, cry, sing, speak, run, move, walk through the world with companions, live freely and gracefully, hate evil with a passion and live boldly and passionately’. I have had all of these things in my life. I have ‘lived’ and not failed this life.

“What I am most reluctant to part with are my family and all of you. ‘Love’ tightly binds my heart to yours and I will miss you the most.

“Farewell, my dearest ones! I am grateful for this life and for having met and known all of you.

“Please note that the way I chose to die was carried out at the final stage of my life. Young friends, please never give up on your life so easily.

“Temporary setbacks and struggles may be ‘trials’ in the beautiful journey of life. I hope you can withstand all these trials and live as I have, to the age of 86 or 87, and when your strength fades, then you can choose how to face death. I hope that by then, humanity will have found more humane ways to help ‘aged’ people leave this world joyfully.”

I cried because Chiung’s courage and determination to leave with full dignity and grace was so moving and profound.

I cried because my father did not get such an elegant exit from life. He was indeed bedridden for the last 16 months of his life and his mind was deteriorating to a point he was making meaningless “scratches” in his diary, as he valiantly tried to keep up with his life-long habit.

I cried because I see my mother wasting away, becoming a helpless shell of the spunky, vibrant woman that she was. She has dementia, is unable to speak or do anything for herself, and requires full-time care.

Yet, she has her moments of clarity and awareness, but is unable to express herself. Instead, she moans, grits her teeth and stares with the eyes of a lost child.

Mum turns 91 next month. She is alive but not living. My siblings and I do all we can to make sure she eats, sleeps and poops well, and that she is not in pain or discomfort.

In this stage, Mum has no say over her life or her death.

Would she prefer to go and not linger on this way? We have no way of knowing.

As for myself, I am no spring chicken, and while I am still able bodied and mentally sound (at least I like to believe I am!), I am afraid of descending into decrepit old age like my parents.

So will I be brave enough to call it a day if I make it to a healthy 86-year-old? Or will I cling on to life because death is still a most fearsome unknown?

I am a cynical Christian, but I do still believe in God, so I wonder if I have been a good enough person to avoid damnation and hell.

Chiung could look back on a well-lived, purposeful life, describing herself as a spark that had burned brightly which she would snuff out.

How many of us can look back and say the same of our lives?

It was reported that in her will, she gave explicit instructions for an eco-friendly flower burial, and since she was an atheist, there would be no religious practices or rites that would be burdensome to the ones left behind.

Chiung did not rage against the dying of the night, as Welsh poet Dylan Thomas in his famous poem urged.

Instead, she went quietly into the night. But what an exit, what a show! May she rest in peace.

The views expressed here are the writer’s own.

Those suffering from mental health issues or are contemplating suicide can reach out to the Mental Health Psychosocial Support Service (03-2935 9935 or 014-322 3392); Talian Kasih (15999 or 019-261 5999 on WhatsApp); Jakim’s Family, Social and Community care centre (011-1959 8214 on WhatsApp); or Befrienders Kuala Lumpur (03-7627 2929, visit www.befrienders.org.my/centre-in-malaysia for a full list of numbers and operating hours, or email [e-mail]).