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When we were clearing my late father’s room, the space beneath his bed yielded more than just a paper trail of unwinning 4D slips. Tucked away in the dark, we found something else: heaps of unopened Yeo Hiap Seng packet drinks. For years, we had wondered why his body succumbed to diabetes. Seeing those crushed, sugary cartons, the medical puzzle was solved. It was a consequence of high sugar consumption.
But back then, we didn’t look at the root cause. We only looked at the symptoms with a sense of distant resignation. We noticed that he didn't eat much anymore, pushing his food around because he found most meals "boring." We watched him, as I described in my second article, gripping his remote controls and fiercely switching between Channel 8 and Channel U.
We watched all of this and dismissed it under a sweeping, generic label: "Typical old people behavior." We thought it was just what happens when people grow old: they become restless, stubborn, and addicted to sweet things.
Today, in May 2026, I sit with the medical truths of aging, and my heart breaks for the man who couldn't explain his own biological imprisonment.
My father was a man in his late 70s, and he was suffering from a silent thief that plagues millions of seniors: Dopamine deficiency.
As the human body reaches that advanced age, it undergoes a cruel neurological decline. Seniors lose almost all of their taste buds, leaving sweetness as the only flavor they can still vividly register. That is why they get addicted to sweet drinks; it is one of the few sensory inputs left that can pierce through the numbness.
More importantly, sweetness artificially spikes their dopamine levels: the chemical of joy, motivation, and reward. When the sweet drinks weren't enough, he chased that same chemical hit by rapidly switching TV channels, desperately hunting for a flash of novelty to wake up a stagnant brain. Doctors will tell you that there is no cure for this neurological fading, citing personal restraint and strict discipline as the only management tools.
But doctors look at the brain as an isolated machine. They forget the soul.
Today, I know there is a beautiful, simple cure. It is a cure that lies at the very center of my books, Love Intelligence and 爱的智慧.
The most powerful way to fight the crushing boredom of aging without resorting to sugar is through novelty and intentional social interaction. A senior's brain doesn't just crave sugar; it craves life.
A new experience, even a small change of scenery, a short drive to a new place, or a different routine, can stimulate the brain. More than that, a deep, meaningful conversation with a loved one triggers a natural, beautiful flood of dopamine. It stimulates the mind and warms the heart, completely free of the dangerous insulin spikes of a packet drink.
My father’s life wasn't boring because he chose it to be. His life was boring because the chemical lights in his brain were turning off one by one, and we weren't there to keep him company in the dark. He used sugar and television remotes to survive the silence. If I could go back, I wouldn't confiscate his packet drinks; I would replace them with my presence.
Love Intelligence Reflection
High Love Intelligence (LQ) requires us to upgrade our empathy from emotional pity to deep, actionable understanding. When we look at our aging parents, we must stop misinterpreting their biological cries for help as "difficult personalities."
If your parents are constantly checking their phones, flipping the TV channels, or reaching for sweets, they are likely starving for dopamine. They are lonely. This Father's Day, don't just send a text or buy a gift. Give them the natural medicine of your TIME. Create a new memory, have a real conversation, and provide the human connection that no packet drink can ever replace.
This is the eighth in a series of articles dedicated to honoring my late father and applying the principles of Love Intelligence to the relationships that matter most. Other 7 aricles:
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