Reverse mortgaging finally coming to Hong Kong

When I was studying in Toronto and learned about reverse mortgaging, I thought it was a great idea. I still do, but it took a long time for it to happen in Hong Kong. In 2010, the banks finally started looking into its potential. I don’t know if it will work, given that Chinese people are so attached to the few bricks over their head. A sense of security for a lot of older people comes from the knowledge that they have a roof over them. Will they be able to give up this certainty and trust the bank enough to do it?

There is an interesting story to share about reverse mortgaging. Jeanne Calment, a French woman who lived to age 122 (1875-1997), had the longest confirmed human life span in history. When she was 90, she sold her apartment to a lawyer, Andre-Francois Raffray, on a contingency contract. It was agreed that he would pay her 2,500 francs a month until she died, and then he would own the apartment. She outlived Raffray after receiving more than $180,000, more than double the market price.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

The true value of things

I started using handkerchiefs a long time ago. I don’t exactly remember why, as it was so long ago, maybe because it seemed to be fancier, more romantic back then. I use them now to be more eco-friendly.

I was as vain as anybody else as a young person. I bought expensive handkerchiefs, such as the one shown in Exhibit A. And then, because I used them a lot, my mother one day bought me some hankies, such as the one in Exhibit B, from the market, where she went daily. I absolutely abhorred them—terrible design, poor quality, cheap-looking things—but, somehow, I never got rid of them.

There were some periods in my life when I used paper towels or tissues for convenience. When I finally reverted back to using hankies, I took out the handkerchiefs that my mother had bought me—and I use them. Not for a moment do I feel embarrassed about these unappealing handkerchiefs. They are not soft to touch, even after repeated washing, but they are functional, nonetheless. They were given to a daughter out of a mother’s love.

As I use them now, I think of the daily trips my mother made to the wet market close to home, to see what was fresh and enticing, to plan meals and buy food for her family. I picture that, one day, she came across some hawkers in the market selling handkerchiefs, and she thought of her daughter and believed that she should buy some for her. She looked through the stock and chose a couple that she thought were pretty. She must have been pleased that she had found something useful to give to her daughter.

She must have been somewhat disappointed that her little present was received with a somewhat indifferent, at best lukewarm, response. But my mother would not remember that now. It was one of a million things that, like all mothers, she did for her children.

Age offers people many advantages, one of which is giving us sufficient distance to adopt a broader perspective when appraising the true value of things in life.

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.

Making our mark

Ambitious people are not the only ones who like to make their mark on earth. Ordinary people who accept who they are also like to leave their mark.

I hike every weekend, as I have told you before. Over time, I have met people on the trail who are regular hikers, like me, and I have made their acquaintance. Some of them have grown attached to the trail and decided they have the right to do things to nature and the trail.

A trail doesn’t lie static. You will see occasional changes here and there that slowly modify the “scenery” of the path you thought you knew so well. I have started to observe things that people do to the trail. I have seen people—actually, I’ve seen the results rather than people at work—opening up small terraces by the hillside, in order to make more room for their daily exercise routines. They treat it almost like their own garden, and try to beautify the space by planting flowering shrubs along the border of the terrace they have created.

In another spot, some hikers must have burnt the grass to enlarge a small sitting area. They have cut off the smaller branches of surrounding trees to allow more sunlight to shine into the area.

Once, I met an elderly man who proudly told his companion about his gardening achievements, how he had relocated a small tree from another spot and planted it here. It hadn’t worked out, and now he had put a new tree, also transplanted, in that location, and he hoped this one would work out fine. I find it fascinating to hear his references to the hillside, as if it were his own garden.

I guess we all want to make a difference in this world, in whatever manner it may be and regardless of our humble origins. But, to my mind, children are the best mark we can make on this world.

We are so accustomed to thinking of age in relation to categories—children, adolescents, adults, seniors—or in terms of needs and functions—start pre-school at age 3 (or whatever), start to drive at 18 (16 in some countries), join a senior center at age 60, and so on. If we try to think of age in a nonlinear and expansive manner, not limiting our ideas of age and ageing to the boundaries of a physical body, and if age is a mark that we make as we travel through time, which changes in form and nature depending on our growth and development, then this mark gains or loses significance one way or another over time and finally becomes a mark we leave behind on this earth. Looking at life this way, it is not just great people who leave their marks on this earth. We have all left our “footprints” somewhere as we age. Isn’t this idea immensely comforting?

For Reflections on Nursing Leadership (RNL), published by the Honor Society of Nursing, Sigma Theta Tau International.