by Cygne Sauvage
She left according to her basic plan. No tears, no regrets, no dramatic farewells.
Prior to her last day, as narrated by a daughter during the eulogy conferred by her colleagues and co-workers in the nonprofit organization she established, the struggle not to wince in pain was so palpable, Yet, she managed to cook the family’s last meal together.
She could have embarked on a lucrative career in business and finance with her stellar scholastic record in both primary and secondary schools. Tenacious and independent-minded she respectfully bypassed her parents’ pleading in favor of an unpopular social science degree certain not to yield high financial returns after graduation. She just let off her other ear the mockery of her elders for walking the path to starvation and instead joined a cause-oriented organization that displayed her musical talent and thespian knack . Her compositions, marked by progressive lyrics, reverberated in the campus during protest marches dealing with national issues, farther reaching out way beyond the walls of the academe. Some of her originally scripted stage plays were adopted for a higher form of cinematic art for an expanded viewership.
Performing arts being one of very effective media for propaganda against an autocratic regime, she had dangerous encounters with the forces of repression. Never yielding to harassments she embraced the underground resistance movement. After almost a decade living true to her kins’ premonition of self-induced poverty, she surfaced after the end of the military rule and resumed her interrupted college education.
It was after giving birth to her eldest child that she found her calling in the collective struggle for women’s health and rights to their bodies. For myriad years, she was at the forefront of the movement that aims to fight for a woman’s independence to decide for her health, promoting pro-choice reproductive health care and freedom to adopt contraception methods. Soon this advocacy evolved into a gender-neutral health movement.
Until she faced her own health crisis. Diagnosed with a serious illness, unluckily at the onset of the coronavirus pandemic, she refused the medical interventions of either organ transplant or regular blood cleansing. For her the benefits of both procedures would not have a lasting impact on someone in her senior years to justify the huge financial outlay. Ever the pragmatist, she preferred that the amount be earmarked to the younger generation in the family. Likewise, with hospitals bleeding from influx of infected patients, she ran the greater risk of aggravating her health condition.
Much to the consternation and reluctance of her loved ones she slipped out of their house a day before the official lockdown was to start. In her letter she informed them that she opted to wait out the inevitable in their rural ancestral home. “This is my body, hence I should have the final decision.”
Under the century old sturdy tree that has stood guard to the ancient structure where she first saw light, she spent the afternoons doing what she loved the most and taking selfies. This was where she last witnessed the sunset.
Her mobile phone chronicled the profile of a happy woman.
The Well-Read Company 