Of death, premature decisions and red poinsettias

He did not wear his scarlet coat,
For blood and wine are red,
And blood and wine were on his hands
When they found him with the dead,
The poor dead woman whom he loved,
And murdered in her bed.

Oscar Wilde from Ballad of Reading Gaol

My old man, is sitting like a potted poinsettia

plant after Christmas is over.

The happy festive season has gone by, and it's time to decide

whether to keep the plant knowing that it won't make it the next Christmas.

Should we simply and heartlessly do with out it?!

My old man's life ended up being a chore to him, day in and day out.

He's had it with incessant coffee cups, cigarettes and books.

Having turned a gazillion pages; there are no more books for him to read.

He thinks it's time to go, in fact he's convinced there's no coming back to square

one either. He lost all heady zest in life. It's not only sad but as a matter of fact,

it is what he has been wishing for a long time now. The question that lies ahead

of us all is whether to help him "take" his own life, or watch him

suffer longer?

Isn't death a furtive visitor that strips the soul away without anyone's consent,

or is he a guest that one can invite willingly and even complement?

I have seen it happen before, for death had visited us before.

He accompanied my two kittens, my pet dog and most beloved brother.

We did not invite him in; we did not leave him a glass of brandy with mince

pies either. For we knew he was not Father Christmas, he just popped by

uninvited and did what he saw "adequate". It hurt to had seen all those

beloved creatures go just like that from our own home and lives; but this

time it is different. We are to sign a deal with death and the devil shall be

our one-eyed witness. Are we to consent even "concur" on death to

swing by most welcomed? No tiptoeing, no stealthy steps.

Life was never meant to be easy and yes it pushes you to take such

decisions and follow them through, but I for one won't sign.

Life is about the opposites, life and death, good and evil but who are we

to toy with that balance or at best keep a tally of how much and when?

God is one, has no opposites and I think we shall leave that to him.

On a more personal note; I keep my poinsettias even after the red bracts

had shriveled and fallen. I had once given up on a potted plant, and I was

surprised when I saw a bud sprout back. I had abandoned it on the corner

of my kitchen's window sill and there it was- bud and new leaf already making

their way through the light. Never give up on life, loved ones or hope;

do all you can and in the end you know you've tried.