Life is fragile, yet most people avoid thinking or talking about death. But a new study shows that people in Singapore are now more willing to break that great silence.
By
Radha Basu, Senior Correspondent
Shin Na with her infant son Toby after being diagnosed with breast cancer in Dec 2005. Having given birth just months earlier, Ms Na had initially dismissed the lump on her breast as a clogged milk duct. -- PHOTOS COURTESY OF TONY RAZA
IT IS way past his bedtime, but little Toby Raza, three, is perched on a sofa, his nose buried in a coffee table book containing photographs of his family.
'This one's my favourite,' he chirps, a fat little finger pointing to an image of his mother who is captured in midair, jumping into a swimming pool on a sunny morning.
His sister Josie, six, sprawled nearby, turns the pages to a photo of herself, nestled in the warmth of her mother's lap. 'I like this one,' she says softly, gently touching the cold, glossy page. 'She's beautiful.'
The children's mother, former TV-producer-turned-housewife Shin Na, died of cancer in the family's Siglap condominium on Jan 27. She was 42.
Their father, American finance professional Tony Raza, lets on that at one time, the family took more than 6,000 photographs a year. 'It's easier now, I guess, than it would have been 15 years ago,' he sighs, referring to the physical and digital treasure trove of memories they are left with.
With two young children, a soulmate for a husband and a happy home, Ms Na was 39 - at the prime of her life - when she was diagnosed with breast cancer in December 2005.
Yet, despite the threat of it all being wrenched away, she lived the rest of her life without regret or recrimination.
By her own account, her final years were her happiest, when she savoured life and love with an intensity she had not known before.
