It was a cloudy drive home from work today. As I approached the bend next to the bridge, I muted the radio and I recited the Al-Fatihah. It has become a ritual comfort each time I go to work, and on my return home to pass by his resting place to recite Al-Fatihah.
Today, amongst the clouds, I felt a warm ray onto my cheek as a the sunshine peeked between. It was like a warm kiss from him as I drove by.
Thank you sayang. I'll pass by again tomorrow.
Missing you just as much as the first night we parted.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Loss
The day had begun as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until the phone rang.
It was my sister in law. The one that was caring for their mum. The news did not strike me by much surprise. She had passed away in her sleep.
The kids by then had both left for school. I made a few calls to work, to my family and arranged the day to attend the burial. I was quite rational and clam. I had decided that the kids need not come as they were taking their semester exams. But as I got ready, I heard his voice whisper in my ear as he said "Ambiklah" (go get them). I froze for a good minute. What was I thinking? The kids were very close to her. She adored them, as they were her connection to her late son, as she was the main link to their late dad. The kids needed to say their good-byes.
I picked them up from school. Such bewildering looks in their eyes as they saw me at their schools. I explained what had happened. My son took the news as a man, shielding back the tears. The more I saw how hard he was trying, the sadder I became. I was the one that broke down into tears.
We managed to kiss her before her coffin was lowered into the grave. Her skin felt lifeless.
My late husband adored her with his life. Even as he was about to leave us, he reminded me to look after her well being after his funeral. Her passing today brought back unexplained feelings of loss. I feel we had lost a piece of him again today.
Al-fatihah to my mum in law and thank you to my parents, my brothers and sisters, friends who accompanied us physically and spiritually through another grieving day.
It was my sister in law. The one that was caring for their mum. The news did not strike me by much surprise. She had passed away in her sleep.
The kids by then had both left for school. I made a few calls to work, to my family and arranged the day to attend the burial. I was quite rational and clam. I had decided that the kids need not come as they were taking their semester exams. But as I got ready, I heard his voice whisper in my ear as he said "Ambiklah" (go get them). I froze for a good minute. What was I thinking? The kids were very close to her. She adored them, as they were her connection to her late son, as she was the main link to their late dad. The kids needed to say their good-byes.
I picked them up from school. Such bewildering looks in their eyes as they saw me at their schools. I explained what had happened. My son took the news as a man, shielding back the tears. The more I saw how hard he was trying, the sadder I became. I was the one that broke down into tears.
We managed to kiss her before her coffin was lowered into the grave. Her skin felt lifeless.
My late husband adored her with his life. Even as he was about to leave us, he reminded me to look after her well being after his funeral. Her passing today brought back unexplained feelings of loss. I feel we had lost a piece of him again today.
Al-fatihah to my mum in law and thank you to my parents, my brothers and sisters, friends who accompanied us physically and spiritually through another grieving day.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Sharing of Passion
As I sat at my PC this evening, I heard my son scream with joy downstairs as Liverpool scored their first goal against ManU.
I shift restlessly in my seat as I hear the excitement in his voice as he watched the match alone. We usually watch the Liverpool matches together, if the time isn't anything after midnight.
"WHOOOAAA!" he yells again.
Ok, that was it! I ran down to see what the commotion was all about.
We watched the match together and experienced a well deserving win by Liverpool. Suarez was a good buy and worked wonders with Kuyt. We are pleased.
My passion for football began with my late husband. He was passionate about the game and enjoyed watching it. What he enjoyed, I enjoyed too. I love sharing with the ones I love, be it sports, food, travel, career or even depache mode.
Sharing a passion with a loved one makes it even more passionate.
But as a result of watching football, I now have to burn a bit of the midnight oil to finish this research proposal.
Bummer.
I shift restlessly in my seat as I hear the excitement in his voice as he watched the match alone. We usually watch the Liverpool matches together, if the time isn't anything after midnight.
"WHOOOAAA!" he yells again.
Ok, that was it! I ran down to see what the commotion was all about.
We watched the match together and experienced a well deserving win by Liverpool. Suarez was a good buy and worked wonders with Kuyt. We are pleased.
My passion for football began with my late husband. He was passionate about the game and enjoyed watching it. What he enjoyed, I enjoyed too. I love sharing with the ones I love, be it sports, food, travel, career or even depache mode.
Sharing a passion with a loved one makes it even more passionate.
But as a result of watching football, I now have to burn a bit of the midnight oil to finish this research proposal.
Bummer.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Too Well Adapted
7 years and 3 months.
I have been a single mummy for 7 years and 3 months. I have achieved a lot in the past 7 years and 3 months, Alhamdulillah.
But don't take it for granted that I have been able to do it for 7 years and 3 months, I can continue to do it for much longer. Or can I?
I have coped this long, gone through this much, and has achieved so much. I'm sure I can go on as I am.
"Really?" said a voice in my head.
"Yes, really." That's my stubborn subconscious talking now.
"REALLY?" asked the voice again.
"Yes, really! I wouldn't know how to do anything but as what I am doing now. And it has been so long living on my own, I don't think I can live with another. I like to have my room to myself, my own bathroom, my own bed. I can make my own plans without having to consult another 'half'. (Though I have to pass the review board aka parents). So, yes REALLY."
I am so well adapted to how I am now, it will be very hard to un-learn these new skills of being independent. I have forgotten how to discuss with someone about plans, sacrifices, compromises, distribution of burden and sharing. I don't think I'll make a good life partner to anyone now. I have become selfish, with the intention to survive.
Just a little ramble to myself. It's approaching midnight. Tomorrow I may feel differently.
I have been a single mummy for 7 years and 3 months. I have achieved a lot in the past 7 years and 3 months, Alhamdulillah.
But don't take it for granted that I have been able to do it for 7 years and 3 months, I can continue to do it for much longer. Or can I?
I have coped this long, gone through this much, and has achieved so much. I'm sure I can go on as I am.
"Really?" said a voice in my head.
"Yes, really." That's my stubborn subconscious talking now.
"REALLY?" asked the voice again.
"Yes, really! I wouldn't know how to do anything but as what I am doing now. And it has been so long living on my own, I don't think I can live with another. I like to have my room to myself, my own bathroom, my own bed. I can make my own plans without having to consult another 'half'. (Though I have to pass the review board aka parents). So, yes REALLY."
I am so well adapted to how I am now, it will be very hard to un-learn these new skills of being independent. I have forgotten how to discuss with someone about plans, sacrifices, compromises, distribution of burden and sharing. I don't think I'll make a good life partner to anyone now. I have become selfish, with the intention to survive.
Just a little ramble to myself. It's approaching midnight. Tomorrow I may feel differently.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
the luckiest of the bad luckers
I lay next to her this evening, just watching her sleep. Such peace, such beauty.
My children had gone through a lot. I sometimes wonder how they cope. I've never not had a father. My dad is still very active and I must admit, at most times forget that his children have all grown up. He is still telling us what to do and claims that he is always right. As an adult, it makes me feel insulted that my life is not respected and the decisions I make are ridiculed. He even puts on the guilt play making me choose between him and my decisions. Of course, he wins. I am his little girl and I can never live with myself with him upset. Yes, that does make me angry. But he is my daddy and I am blessed to have him. My children do not have that. They cannot remember having the father in their lives. He died when they were so young.
So, I should feel very blessed that I am privileged to have grown up with a father, a mother, brothers and sisters. I am blessed to have been married. I am blessed to have had children. I am blessed to have a job, to have health (just not today), to have met MS and to have potential for happiness.
Through all the bad luck that I have had, I think I am the luckiest.
My children had gone through a lot. I sometimes wonder how they cope. I've never not had a father. My dad is still very active and I must admit, at most times forget that his children have all grown up. He is still telling us what to do and claims that he is always right. As an adult, it makes me feel insulted that my life is not respected and the decisions I make are ridiculed. He even puts on the guilt play making me choose between him and my decisions. Of course, he wins. I am his little girl and I can never live with myself with him upset. Yes, that does make me angry. But he is my daddy and I am blessed to have him. My children do not have that. They cannot remember having the father in their lives. He died when they were so young.
So, I should feel very blessed that I am privileged to have grown up with a father, a mother, brothers and sisters. I am blessed to have been married. I am blessed to have had children. I am blessed to have a job, to have health (just not today), to have met MS and to have potential for happiness.
Through all the bad luck that I have had, I think I am the luckiest.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Eleven-teen already?
Mind and body on strike today. Over-worked and over stressed results in shut down of all system. I do really need a system reboot.
So, the week ended with a snotty nose, sore throat, watery eyes, bouts of sneezes and a temperature to warm things up.
To my little princess, I'm sorry for being a bum bum head on your birthday. I know it is not everyday that one turns 11. But we'll plan something next week. Umi is just really tired today.
But we did have cake, the presents and the traditional sit down on the couch as I retold her the story of her birth. She particularly liked the egg tart fart bit..... Thank you to my sister who bought me egg tarts the night before.
And for her daddy, we said our doas. He would have been so proud to see his little girl blossom. Yes, she is a handful, but I wouldn't want it any less. We did good (and still are).
So, the week ended with a snotty nose, sore throat, watery eyes, bouts of sneezes and a temperature to warm things up.
To my little princess, I'm sorry for being a bum bum head on your birthday. I know it is not everyday that one turns 11. But we'll plan something next week. Umi is just really tired today.
But we did have cake, the presents and the traditional sit down on the couch as I retold her the story of her birth. She particularly liked the egg tart fart bit..... Thank you to my sister who bought me egg tarts the night before.
And for her daddy, we said our doas. He would have been so proud to see his little girl blossom. Yes, she is a handful, but I wouldn't want it any less. We did good (and still are).
Saturday, February 5, 2011
What does music mean to you?
I love my music.
I love playing it.
I love singing it.
I love listening to it.
Why?
I like the music I listen to because it relaxes me. I don't want it to be heavy, depressing, too loud or too abstract.
I love stories in my music.
But most of all, the music I listen to reflects the stories surrounding the time the music was around. When it was playing 75 times a day on the radio, the memories that goes along with it. It isn't just the music. It's the people I was around when the music was playing. It was what I associated myself with when the music was playing. So, excuse me for the real passionate music enthusiasm out there, I love listening to Westlife and Ronan Keeting because you used to laugh at it. The music brings back your laughter. I love the predictability of the music because you thought it was crap. I love the way we used to make up our own lyrics and sing in the car when the boys were on air. I love the memory of our first born humming a boyzone song before he could even talk.
That music relaxes me. I don't have to think while listening to it because, lets face it, you don't need much grey matter for that kind of music. It also leaves my mind free to go back to my favourite places and hear him again.
Weird as it may sound, the fact that it ticked him off makes me like it even more.
I love playing it.
I love singing it.
I love listening to it.
Why?
I like the music I listen to because it relaxes me. I don't want it to be heavy, depressing, too loud or too abstract.
I love stories in my music.
But most of all, the music I listen to reflects the stories surrounding the time the music was around. When it was playing 75 times a day on the radio, the memories that goes along with it. It isn't just the music. It's the people I was around when the music was playing. It was what I associated myself with when the music was playing. So, excuse me for the real passionate music enthusiasm out there, I love listening to Westlife and Ronan Keeting because you used to laugh at it. The music brings back your laughter. I love the predictability of the music because you thought it was crap. I love the way we used to make up our own lyrics and sing in the car when the boys were on air. I love the memory of our first born humming a boyzone song before he could even talk.
That music relaxes me. I don't have to think while listening to it because, lets face it, you don't need much grey matter for that kind of music. It also leaves my mind free to go back to my favourite places and hear him again.
Weird as it may sound, the fact that it ticked him off makes me like it even more.
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