Another Dream

I had a dream with him in it last night.

I suppose it is that time of the year, coming close to Ramadhan, that I feel the "pinch" to be more painful. The "missing him" to be more evident. The "memories" being more surreal.

We were standing together. It was like at a corner of a building, as people were passing by us. People we knew, but I don't recall them now. Then suddenly, a lady, a familiar figure, his sister I think, started shouting at him and pointing her index finger towards him.

"You are no father! You are not a good husband either" I heard her shout while angrily she pointed her finger to him.

I turned around to face him, but could not see his face. I was standing too close to see his face. But I hugged him tight as I put my arms around his waist and rested my head against his chest. He was a tall(er) man. I heard his heart beating and felt his chest move with his breathing. In the background, his sister continued to yell. But it did not matter, as hugging him was like the most comforting thing in this world!

Then I woke up.

Widow-to-Widow

As her 6 year old daughter, laid her tired & weary head on her lap, closing her eyes, she immediately fell into deep sleep. It's been a long evening for everyone. An even longer night as they wait for daylight for the burial. It was a sudden death, her husband collapsing at work and was pronounced dead on arrival to hospital. He was well earlier that morning.

Now, she is widowed. Her husband gone from this earth forever. He was only in his 40s. They have 5 children, the youngest only 6.

The pain I felt for her was far too familiar. The tears she cried felt wet on my cheeks. Her empty heart beating was echoing in my ears. Her loss made my knees weak. What the children were feeling, only Allah knows.

As I hugged her before we left her house, a widow to another, nothing needed to be said. She knew I understood.

As people started leaving, going back to their own normal lives, hers was changed forever. My soul shifted from present to past to present again that evening. It was an emotionally moving evening, a turmoil of memories as semi healed scars were scalded again with salt.

Today, just a mere 4 days after his passing, she was out and about doing what was needed to be done. They do say that Allah only gives these challenges to those that can take the challenge. She and the children have been given a special gift, that will lift them above the rest, Insya'Allah.

I gave her a wave and smiled at her boys as they were kicking the football around their front yard, as I drove by to get on with my day, my life. May Allah give her the strength too, as it was given to me.

Al-Fatihah to her husband.

another late night

Tomorrow is another day.

Lets get some rest now.

A lot of people are depending on you.

nick names

I do wonder..... but deep inside me, I know he comes and visits. Just to make sure that I am ok.

I am ok. A bit battered, but ok.

And forever, I will always be his little Pikita, his no nose shorty. And my nick names for him...other than big nose, I cannot say as it is politically incorrect and out right wrong. But that makes it even more special...to be able to laugh at each others' short falls. YES, I said Short...ya ya ya. (he would laugh at that...and so would I).

Miss him.

Weekend Cap

It has been a weekend of cleaning up and reminiscing.

I have put away some of the precious momentous for safe keeping, but I have a tendency of keeping them in such "safe" places, never to be found again.

But its all "up" there and deep "in" here. While I still have my mind and my heart, it will be safe.

Then, I ended the evening with the usual clothes folding while watching telly. Tonight, the "Sixth Sense" was on.

I remember watching this with him in 1999. Before he got sick. I've always loved that movie, and we used to joke about the famous line of "seeing dead people", but in a different context.

"Did you get the issue settled?" He would ask me.

"Abang" I replied to tell him. "I see people. I see stupid people".

"That's a No then." He would say, as I nodded my head.

Tonight, watching the movie again,  brought a different angle to the movie. Plethora of memories, and the closeness to relate to loss and talking to the deceased. To me, I do whisper his name at night before I go to bed. The sound of his name somehow lingers and makes his past presence seems not too far of a distant. I don't think it's a sign of insanity. Believe you me, I've done crazier things. BUT, if the room suddenly gets cold and I see vapour of mist coming out of my mouth, then yes, I will exercise my rights as a government servant to seek the best psychiatric help.