My grand uncle was a rather odd
person. He was the husband of my grand aunt, who had Alzheimer’s disease and
whom I took care of. His hobby was making model airplanes. Sometimes he made
the airplanes fly on the riverside. He ran a camera shop, but he was not
interested in selling cameras. He was interested in modifying cameras. He
enjoyed taking unique pictures.
When I was a child, he told me
many jokes. His jokes were different from those of other adults. He never said
any childish jokes, even to children. His jokes always surprised me. He and I
were not related by blood, but if someone asked me, “Who do you most resemble
among your relatives?” the answer would be him.
He passed away when he was
eighty-four years old. He needed to be in and out of the hospital repeatedly in
those days. I lived away from him. I repeatedly visited the hospital when I
received a message: “He is hovering between life and death now.”
One day, when I visited his
hospital, he told me a strange story: “When I gained consciousness, I had a
hallucination.”
I worried about him, but my uncle
looked like he had enjoyed that.
“It really amused me. It was
almost like watching a movie for free.” He started to complain about the nurses
and the doctors. “When I described the hallucination to the doctor, the nurse
gave me a shot. Then my hallucination was gone. They did such an unnecessary
thing!”
I didn’t know how to reply to him.
He continued, “Shu, can you keep
it a secret?”
I answered yes because he was
hovering between life and death.
He said, “Actually, I can see the
hallucination a little bit, even now.” He pointed at the corner of the
sickroom. “There is a railway platform.”
I went out of the sickroom. I
started to worry. Should I report to the doctor about the hallucination? If I
did, the doctor would give him more shots. If he was enjoying that, should I
let him experience the hallucination? Otherwise, for my grand uncle to receive
proper medical treatment, should I leak the secret? Ultimately, I didn’t talk
to anyone about that.
A few weeks later, he left the
hospital. He recovered. I didn’t know that he was still experiencing the
hallucination after he had left the hospital. A
few years later, he passed away. I talked about his hallucination with my other
relatives on the way to the crematory. I kept his secret until his death.
I imagine that when we are
hovering between life and death, we can experience wonderful hallucinations. It
might be nice. It could be a preview of heaven.
Picture by freehand
