On laws that you must make provision for your parents

I find it interesting as well as intriguing that Singapore and some provinces in China have laws stating that one must make provision for one’s parents. In those places, filial piety is not just part of a citizen’s moral obligation, but a requirement of the law.

What if the parents are awful parents? What if the children make provisions for their parents, but verbally abuse and mentally torture them? What if the children do not love their parents, and only provide for them out of a sense of duty? Would the parents like that? Would proud parents accept money from their children in that situation? What if the parents are well off but the children are not? I gave birth to my children and raised them until they could stand on their own two feet. Does that qualify me to receive lifelong provision from them?

I am very interested to know how the law addresses these questions in view of the complexities of human relationships.

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

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.

Hong Kong, a highly age-integrated society

I never realized how highly age-integrated Hong Kong is until I visited Singapore. Singapore, a garden city, is very pretty and highly organized. If you walk around downtown and along Raffles Place, you will not run into older people, no matter what time of the day it is. It is entirely a young peoples' world. Even as I visited beach areas famous for seafood, I found hardly any families bringing seniors along to dinner. The only exception is probably Singapore's Chinatown, where I may have met more people who were older.

This is in stark contrast to Hong Kong. Here, you run into seniors anywhere who are going about their business. In the Central District—the business core of Hong Kong—you brush shoulders with young and old alike. You find rich seniors having high tea in the Mandarin Hotel—you know they're rich by the way they dress and how they carry themselves—and you run into seniors picking up cardboard boxes to sell to recycling merchants. Hong Kong seniors may shop at the famous Lane Crawford emporium, or they may be selling small items (scarves, imitation jewelry, scissors, fans, all sorts) in their stalls on a side or back street in Central. Both the young and the old fight with you for use of the pavement, and we all jaywalk.

I once asked a Singaporean friend why I so rarely find seniors in downtown Singapore. She told me it was because they did not need to go downtown. All their needs could be met in the housing estate in which they lived. Housing communities are designed to be self-sufficient in Singapore, with clinics, shopping malls and community centers. But I still do not get it. Because their needs can be met entirely within their neighborhood, they have no business visiting downtown at all?

I have tried hard to think of the reasons that may account for the differences between the two cities. I can't put my finger on it. I think back to other cities I have visited—Stockholm, London, Taipei, Chicago. Now that I am trying to make sense out of an observation, I am no longer sure of what the other cities are like. But I am certain that they are unlike Singapore, which has made a deep impression on me in this regard.

I strongly object to retirement communities. I would not move into one myself. Why do we need age-segregated communities when, in the real world, people of all ages live together?

Yes, young people can be cruel sometimes, mocking those who have grown old and frail. But not all young people are so. Yes, the amenities of a retirement community may be quite attractive, but meeting with people from all walks of life is much more interesting. We can only promote understanding and acceptance between generations if we live together, not separate from one another.

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

Burial places

Hong Kong is very crowded by any standard—426 square miles of hilly land masses hosting a population of close to 7 million. We fight for a space of our own when we are alive, and our loved ones may still need to fight for a space for us when we are dead. I say “fight,” because I mean it.

Chinese people love to buy their own living space, instead of renting. Because space is at a premium here, housing occupies a huge percentage of people’s monthly income. Given the motivation to own their own apartment (not houses; few people in Hong Kong’s urban area can afford to own a house), people have to fight hard in life to make ends meet.

Recently, the way people “fight” in Hong Kong to get a spot for themselves or deceased family members hit the news headlines. Although burial is a Chinese tradition, nowadays it is no longer the norm. Burial land is scarce and, therefore, very costly and only for the privileged. More and more people now opt for cremation. But Chinese people believe it is not good to keep your ancestors’ ashes in your home. The forces of yin and yang will not be balanced; yin will be too strong. Urns should be kept in proper places, either in a cemetery or a columbarium (a place for the storage of cinerary urns). Public columbaria are not affiliated with any religion, but private ones are usually built and maintained in accordance with Buddhist traditions.

Because of the severe shortage of spots for urns, business-minded people have developed illegal columbaria. The problem surfaced when the government tried to put these illegal operations out of business. Unfortunately, there is no simple answer to the problem, even though the government intends to build more public columbaria. Nobody wants one in their neighborhood.

When I die, I would like to donate all my tissues and organs, if they are still usable, and then have my body cremated and my ashes used to plant a tree. I don’t need a tombstone or an urn. As society becomes more liberal, discussion of life and death matters becomes less of a taboo. Many elderly Chinese people do make plans for their funerals and burials. This is a good thing, as the family will be comforted to know that they have done what their loved ones wanted.

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

Social security in Hong Kong

In Hong Kong, when a senior wishes to apply for social security—locally, we call it Comprehensive Social Security Assistance (CSSA)—they have to sign a statement declaring that their offspring will not support them. What an infringement of a person’s rights!

Some people do not like to sign such a statement. Other times, sons or daughters will not allow their parents to make such a declaration, because doing so would not reflect well on them. In these cases, the poor, older person has to rely on the non-means-tested Old Age Allowance (OAA), a sum of $1,000 HK provided by the government to all seniors at age 70.

CSSA carries with it a social stigma. Many who do not want to apply for CSSA will try to live on the meager thousand dollars provided by OAA, which means an unimaginably hard life in a city like Hong Kong, where the cost of living is not cheap.

While surveys and research reports in the Western world show that most older adults have finished high school, studies here report that the mean number of years of education received by Hong Kong seniors is only two to three. Many of them do hard manual labor their entire lives. Hong Kong is an affluent society but, as in many advanced countries, most of the city’s wealth is possessed by a very small percentage of the population. Our older folks, in particular, are not well off.

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