COMMENT: Singaporeans, we really need to talk about end-of-life planning

FOUR wonderful young Singaporeans made me think of my mother’s ambition to do something disturbing to a garden gnome. She wants to drill a hole in its bottom.

In fairness, the garden gnome is wearing a Chelsea jersey so the sentiment is understandable, but her amateur proctology is an attempt to honour a dead man’s wishes.

Perhaps. Maybe. It’s all guesswork as my late step-father treated end-of-life conversations like Manchester United. He didn’t want to talk about it.

His thinking was not untypical of those contemplating mortality. As far as he was concerned, if he didn’t discuss it, it didn’t exist, rather like Manchester United. His denial was admirably stubborn and perhaps even noble, but it’s now turned the rest of the family into amateur sleuths, working on our deductive reasoning to honour his wishes.

He loved Chelsea. He loved his garden gnomes. So my mother deduced that he’d love his ashes kept inside a Chelsea garden gnome. But he didn’t like being left out in the cold. So who knows?

Similarly, he loved to sit on a sea-facing bench outside his favourite café, smelling the fried breakfasts. So maybe he’d like his ashes scattered around the bench. But if the sea breeze kicked in, his ashes would end up in those fried breakfasts. So who knows?

The matter remains unresolved, months after his passing. Respecting his wish not to mention the unmentionable before his death makes it difficult to respect his wishes after his death. We don’t know for sure what they were.

We may be left with no choice but to turn the Chelsea garden gnome upside down and let my mother loose with a screwdriver.

Taboo subject all over the world

Naturally, my family is not alone, especially in Singapore, where end-of-life planning remains a taboo subject, particularly among the elder generations who would ideally be broaching the delicate subject with their younger relatives. It's tricky. Luckily, the topic is being smartly tackled by four young Singaporeans, via a card game, which is being released this month.

A recent Yahoo Southeast Asia story highlighted the endeavours of the National University of Singapore Business School students, after one of them recognised the sensitive issues that arose from her late grandmother’s wake. Another of the students spoke of growing up in a conservative Chinese family, where any death chatter was considered unlucky, which is true, but it’s not a taboo unique to Singapore.

Growing up in England, my grandmother happily discussed the colour of her knickers – and occasionally flashed them at my unsuspecting girlfriend to prove that she could still kick her legs like a showgirl – but she’d never discuss the colour scheme of her coffin, or even recognise the possibility of her inevitable demise. She was a vivacious celebration of life. Death was beyond her comprehension.

The attitude persists. Findings from a ComRes study in 2015 revealed that 72 per cent of the British public were uncomfortable discussing dying, death and bereavement. The same survey showed that only 35 per cent had written a will and only 27 per cent had talked to someone about their funeral plans. Just 7 per cent had written down their preferences for end-of-life care, which can lead to a harrowing outcome for all concerned.

Without seeking the appropriate guidance and professional support until it was too late, my step-father hazily asked to spend his final days at home, in the hope of finding a degree of comfort at the end. He didn't. Instead, my mother witnessed dreadful scenes, left alone to handle complications that she wasn’t trained for, professionally or emotionally. And it wasn’t a random patient either. It was her husband.

He didn’t get the peace he wanted in death. She’s stuck with those images for life. A clear-headed conversation earlier on might have eased the pain for both of them.

Doing the right thing for the dying

But there’s a reason that death is never used in ice-breaker games. No one kicks off a family reunion by discussing cremation plans or enquiring about Granny’s jewellery collection. It puts people off their dinner, especially Granny, who thought she was getting a home-cooked meal, not relatives ripping gold rings off her fingers.

It’s just not done, especially in Singapore, where even the mention of the word can be considered uncouth, tempting fate in a way that is not appreciated. In 2014, a Lien Foundation survey showed that only 50 per cent of Singaporeans have ever talked about death or dying with family members.

Superstitions abound. In my household, the c-word is rarely uttered, the one that involves different stages of physical deterioration and misery, as if saying the word in full somehow increases the risk. Dare not speak its name and deny the disease’s existence.

And yet, we must, obviously. Ignoring disease and death is not only a futile exercise, but also an unsettling and distressing experience for those left behind, which makes the efforts of the four NUS students so commendable. Their card came - Will of Fortune by Immortalize - encourages up to nine players to create the best plan for a dying character.

Apart from the usual responsibilities, involving insurance and allocation of assets, which feel a tad materialistic, though undoubtedly important, the emphasis on detailed legacy planning displays remarkable empathy among the card game’s creators.

Doing the right thing for the dying protects their memory for the living.

Legacy planning is complicated and painful, but denial and indecision are hardly suitable alternatives. They are Band-Aids at best, covering the ugly stuff for a while, before the guilt of an unresolved legacy takes over. It’s like being punished twice.

Second guessing the dead is really not a pastime worth recommending. So if the opportunity is there to delicately address end-of-life wishes, try and take it. The conversation may be awkward, but it’s got to be better than gambling on a garden gnome.

Neil Humphreys is an award-winning football writer and a best-selling author, who has covered the English Premier League since 2000 and has written 28 books.

You can also follow us on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok and Twitter. Also check out our Southeast Asia, Food, and Gaming channels on YouTube.