Hello Mommy,
It's been a while since I last talked to you. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that I feel as if I am saying the same thing over and over again and I was afraid of sounding trite.
But tonight, I feel like talking with you. You know I always miss you Mom. All of us do all the time.
Dad and Abang is particularly miserable. And dad in specific have not been the same since you've been gone. He is more irritable now and he seems lost without you. He is drowning in his sorrow and I don't know what we can do to help pull him out of his bereavement.
I know you were his soul-mate and you bring balance to his life. You stabilized him. As much as he was your rock when you were alive, you were the pillar of his existence. Now that you are gone his very essence is threatened for you defined the man that he used to be. Without you he have to rebuild his entire make-up and I don't think dad is doing well in rebuilding a life post you.
Mom, how do I help dad regain his sense of self? His life for so long now has been centred around you, but now you are no longer here and it's like he has lost his direction and purpose in life.
How can I help dad when I have no clue of where to begin?
I know dad will read this and he will brush my lamentations aside. He won't deign to dignify my concerns with an admission of how bereft he is without you. Dad is still dad despite the changes your passing has impose on him. And he is always the strong one and heaven forbids if we should see him crumble.
Mom, the family has not been the same since you left.
There are much resentment and tension in the house. Abang is always saying how the family is not like it used to be when you were still around. Grief is tearing us apart and yet no one is adressing the issue. We are all each suffering in silent and not talking about how your passing has affected the unity of this small family unit.
We are just going on with life and everyday I feel the family growing further and further apart. It's like your passing has left a chasm in between the four of us left and we just can't seem to close the gap to reach each other.
Every one is in their own private hell and there is no solidarity.
I don't know how to heal this wound you left behind Mom. How do I gain back the unified family we once had?
Who would have thought that having you out of the equation would leave everyone in the negative?
Mom, show me the way to repair our shredded heart and to heal the family's broken bonds.
I have not known a truly happy moment in the family ever since you departed.
Help me Mom. Guide me from where ever you are. If this hurt isn't healed, we will never gain that cohesive unity once more.
Sorry if I burden you with our earthly problems, but as when you were alive, you were the only one I could really share my troubles with. I'll leave you for now mom. Hopefully when next we talk, I would have a happier demeanour.
Love always,
Adik.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Conversation With Mom 14
Mummy love,
It's another new year without you. The 2nd actually since you moved on. The new year has been eventful. Along came back from England, Abang started a new school year and I scalded my leg with hot water.
You must be thinking about the time when I was 2 and I ran into you when you were holding a jug of hot water and the water spilled on my right arm. As I suffer my second encounter with boiling water, dad and along can't help but recall that first incident I hat with boiling water.
Dad said how frantic you were when the water spilled onto my body. Well mom, that night when the water fell onto my leg I was screaming blue murder and I woke up Abang and Along.
Abang came rushing down where as Along thought she was dreaming and it was you who screamed from the kitchen and not me and so when she woke up and realize that it couldn't be you because you were gone already she decide it was all a dream and went back to bed.
As painful as the burns are, that's not really why I am having this conversation with you. I wanted to tell you that I have been dreaming of you again and quite frequently these past few weeks.
I haven't had these many dreams of you after the first few months of your demise, when dreaming of you was equivalent to going to sleep each night.
I don't know why the dreams are occurring again. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that as off late I have been back to thinking of you constantly like I had when you first passed away.
You know I will ALWAYS miss you Mom, but there are days when the pain is less and there are days when the pain becomes unbearable and there are days when it seems like it's a normal thing not to have you around, although those kind of days are rare because mostly it still feels odd not to see you sitting at the dining table or cooking in the kitchen or sleeping in the bedroom.
Mom, I am having this conversation with you tonight because after so long having kept my emotions at bay, I am feeling again the emptiness that I felt the first few months after you went away.
I feel so hollow inside Mom and I don't know by which means I can fill it up again so as not to feel so barren.
I miss you Mom and I still haven't figured out a way to get over you. I suppose I never will.
Al-Fatihah Mom. Until the next time.
It's another new year without you. The 2nd actually since you moved on. The new year has been eventful. Along came back from England, Abang started a new school year and I scalded my leg with hot water.
You must be thinking about the time when I was 2 and I ran into you when you were holding a jug of hot water and the water spilled on my right arm. As I suffer my second encounter with boiling water, dad and along can't help but recall that first incident I hat with boiling water.
Dad said how frantic you were when the water spilled onto my body. Well mom, that night when the water fell onto my leg I was screaming blue murder and I woke up Abang and Along.
Abang came rushing down where as Along thought she was dreaming and it was you who screamed from the kitchen and not me and so when she woke up and realize that it couldn't be you because you were gone already she decide it was all a dream and went back to bed.
As painful as the burns are, that's not really why I am having this conversation with you. I wanted to tell you that I have been dreaming of you again and quite frequently these past few weeks.
I haven't had these many dreams of you after the first few months of your demise, when dreaming of you was equivalent to going to sleep each night.
I don't know why the dreams are occurring again. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that as off late I have been back to thinking of you constantly like I had when you first passed away.
You know I will ALWAYS miss you Mom, but there are days when the pain is less and there are days when the pain becomes unbearable and there are days when it seems like it's a normal thing not to have you around, although those kind of days are rare because mostly it still feels odd not to see you sitting at the dining table or cooking in the kitchen or sleeping in the bedroom.
Mom, I am having this conversation with you tonight because after so long having kept my emotions at bay, I am feeling again the emptiness that I felt the first few months after you went away.
I feel so hollow inside Mom and I don't know by which means I can fill it up again so as not to feel so barren.
I miss you Mom and I still haven't figured out a way to get over you. I suppose I never will.
Al-Fatihah Mom. Until the next time.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Plug The Hole
Plug the hole,
My heart is leaking,
Emptiness as love seeps out,
Leaving it dark and barren.
Plug the hole,
Let me try and keep some warmth inside,
Don't tear me apart,
Be still my heart.
Plug the hole,
Don't let another love seep away,
Don't leave me achingly empty,
Let me retain some love inside.
Plug the hole,
I don't want an empty flask,
I don't want this barren mold,
Let my heart retain its soul.
So, please plug the hole.
My heart is leaking,
Emptiness as love seeps out,
Leaving it dark and barren.
Plug the hole,
Let me try and keep some warmth inside,
Don't tear me apart,
Be still my heart.
Plug the hole,
Don't let another love seep away,
Don't leave me achingly empty,
Let me retain some love inside.
Plug the hole,
I don't want an empty flask,
I don't want this barren mold,
Let my heart retain its soul.
So, please plug the hole.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Conversation With Mom 13
Mommy sayang,
I went for a job interview today. During the course of the interview, the interviewer asked me what I have been doing during the time I was not working. I told him how I have written and published a book for Kindle and he asked what the book was about and I told him that it's about you and my experiences after you passed away.
He told me what I've been telling myself all this while. He said, "Don't dwell on the past. She is after all in a better place."
My head knows this Mom, but my heart? My heart won't hear anything of the sort. It keeps yearning for your continued presence in my life, it keeps insisting on holding tight to every possible link there is left of you; my heart does not know and does not want to let you go.
Mom, I know it's not healthy for either of us that I keep dwelling in the many what-ifs-scenario in my head. You have indeed moved on to a better place devoid of pain, devoid of misery. But I can't stop myself from wishing that Allah hasn't seen fit to take you away last November 4th, even though that was the most Merciful thing Allah could do for you then.
Mom, life is moving forward. Each day that I take forward now leaves you further and further behind where the distant isn't only physical but spiritual, emotional and mental, and I don't want to leave you behind; I CAN'T leave you behind.
All the things in life that I'm going through, I wish you could still be here to share with me. All the things in life that I know you would have wanted to be there for.
Mom, I thought writing that book I entitled simply, 'Mom' would be a catharsis, that it would help me heal... but now even with the book having made it's very first sale and I rejoiced in the fact that at least another soul out there who bless his or her heart has seen fit to purchase our book, and will know you as I have known you and help me in immortalizing you, I still feel hollow inside.
Mom, why won't this ache ever go?
I believe till there is no more breath in me, I will forever more carry a wound in my heart where your presence once was.
Mom, I love you and I miss you.
I went for a job interview today. During the course of the interview, the interviewer asked me what I have been doing during the time I was not working. I told him how I have written and published a book for Kindle and he asked what the book was about and I told him that it's about you and my experiences after you passed away.
He told me what I've been telling myself all this while. He said, "Don't dwell on the past. She is after all in a better place."
My head knows this Mom, but my heart? My heart won't hear anything of the sort. It keeps yearning for your continued presence in my life, it keeps insisting on holding tight to every possible link there is left of you; my heart does not know and does not want to let you go.
Mom, I know it's not healthy for either of us that I keep dwelling in the many what-ifs-scenario in my head. You have indeed moved on to a better place devoid of pain, devoid of misery. But I can't stop myself from wishing that Allah hasn't seen fit to take you away last November 4th, even though that was the most Merciful thing Allah could do for you then.
Mom, life is moving forward. Each day that I take forward now leaves you further and further behind where the distant isn't only physical but spiritual, emotional and mental, and I don't want to leave you behind; I CAN'T leave you behind.
All the things in life that I'm going through, I wish you could still be here to share with me. All the things in life that I know you would have wanted to be there for.
Mom, I thought writing that book I entitled simply, 'Mom' would be a catharsis, that it would help me heal... but now even with the book having made it's very first sale and I rejoiced in the fact that at least another soul out there who bless his or her heart has seen fit to purchase our book, and will know you as I have known you and help me in immortalizing you, I still feel hollow inside.
Mom, why won't this ache ever go?
I believe till there is no more breath in me, I will forever more carry a wound in my heart where your presence once was.
Mom, I love you and I miss you.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Mom's Tale
Growing up, Mom used to tell us stories to while away the boring hours. She would tell us stories of puteri raja (princess) and orang bunian (fey folks) and a myriad of other stories that would not only entertain but leaves us with moral lessons of what it means to be good and honorable.
Mom had a wealth of stories up her sleeves. Most of them handed down by her grandmother, told to her when she was a little girl trying to fill her boring hours.
But despite the wonderful collection of stories that she told us, there is one story I wish that she would have shared with us. Her story. The one she wanted to write always, but never did.
The Meandering River.
This tale that mom labored on in her mind, she never shared nor wrote. Although I knew she wanted to consign it on paper innumerable times.
Mom's Meandering River to us, only means that it's time to take her to the psychiatrist to increase her medicine dosage because about the only time she busied herself with her 'book' was when she was suffering a relapse of a schizophrenia.
What I do know about the book she wanted to write was that it would tell us the story of her life. How she grew up, became a wife and mother and her aspirations throughout that journey.
I would have loved to have known the story that she never shared with anyone.
Mom wasn't much of a talker. She was more of a listener. Which makes perfect sense I suppose because she married a talker. If they were both a talker their marriage would have been a disaster. No. The talker in the family is definitely Dad. Mom more often than not, just listened. She was a fantastic listener.
But still, when she did talk, it was always worth listening.
Mom, like dad had a brilliant way with words. Words were her trade if she ever had any. Before Mom needed glasses to read, she was a voracious reader. She loved her books. Which is where she got her love for words in the first place.
Books were her constant companion. When there were no one around to keep her company, books replaced the people that weren't around her.
My sister Along, got a double dose of love of reading from Mom and Dad.
But Mom shaped the kind of books that Along would grew up to love. When she was young, she would ransack Mom's collection of books and read them.
In between the books that Mom read and the stories that were told to her as a young girl, we never lacked for entertaining stories growing up.
I miss the stories that only Mom could tell. Mom's tale now reside only in our memory bank.
Mom had a wealth of stories up her sleeves. Most of them handed down by her grandmother, told to her when she was a little girl trying to fill her boring hours.
But despite the wonderful collection of stories that she told us, there is one story I wish that she would have shared with us. Her story. The one she wanted to write always, but never did.
The Meandering River.
This tale that mom labored on in her mind, she never shared nor wrote. Although I knew she wanted to consign it on paper innumerable times.
Mom's Meandering River to us, only means that it's time to take her to the psychiatrist to increase her medicine dosage because about the only time she busied herself with her 'book' was when she was suffering a relapse of a schizophrenia.
What I do know about the book she wanted to write was that it would tell us the story of her life. How she grew up, became a wife and mother and her aspirations throughout that journey.
I would have loved to have known the story that she never shared with anyone.
Mom wasn't much of a talker. She was more of a listener. Which makes perfect sense I suppose because she married a talker. If they were both a talker their marriage would have been a disaster. No. The talker in the family is definitely Dad. Mom more often than not, just listened. She was a fantastic listener.
But still, when she did talk, it was always worth listening.
Mom, like dad had a brilliant way with words. Words were her trade if she ever had any. Before Mom needed glasses to read, she was a voracious reader. She loved her books. Which is where she got her love for words in the first place.
Books were her constant companion. When there were no one around to keep her company, books replaced the people that weren't around her.
My sister Along, got a double dose of love of reading from Mom and Dad.
But Mom shaped the kind of books that Along would grew up to love. When she was young, she would ransack Mom's collection of books and read them.
In between the books that Mom read and the stories that were told to her as a young girl, we never lacked for entertaining stories growing up.
I miss the stories that only Mom could tell. Mom's tale now reside only in our memory bank.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Conversation With Mom 12
Hello Mommy,
It's been a while since I last talked to you. It's not because I don't want to talk anymore, it's just that I couldn't think of what to say. I hate being repetitious and it seems that every time I talk with you I am always telling you how miserable I am now without you.
Mom, you know I miss you with all that is in me, but I don't think it's healthy anymore for me to keep dwelling on the fact that you are now gone. I will still talk with you, but I don't think I will keep on reiterating in various different ways how much you being gone is affecting us and me in particular.
I want to tell you that in 9 days Along will leave for England and will be there for a month. She's going to visit her fiance and give a test run on how life would be there when she moves there after her marriage. You would have loved Along forging ahead with her life, contemplating marriage and a family of her own.
At least one of your children is moving on with her life. Me? I'm still stuck in the same routine, not growing, not evolving. I don't know Mom. It's at times like this that I wish you were still around to reassure me that my life is progressing nicely. That in time I will find the answers to my questions about life.
Oh yes, Dad commented one time that it's like he doesn't matter in our equation when we write our blogs. I guess my blogs with you have always been focused on my feelings, my emotions, my heartbreak. I haven't really shared with you how Dad, Abang and Along are doing.
Well, I think you would know already that they all miss you terribly. Dad is handling his bereavement by being stoic and focusing on the betterment of his children's lives. He misses you a lot. I can tell that he is finding life without you unbearable at times. There are times when he would look really sad and I know he's thinking of you.
There was that one point in time when he refuse to shave off his beard. He looked so scruffy. But he shaved it off when we were going to visit you for your one year anniversary.
And Abang. He remembers all those times when you would sit by him and accompany him while he is playing his computer games. Now he plays by himself and he says he misses the times when you were sitting by his side. He would also say sometimes how my cooking pales to yours. He misses you being around Mom. And sometimes when he gets really sad, he says he would rather be there with you than be here without you. Of course I know he doesn't mean it, just that he misses you too much.
Then there's Along. I know she still cries for you from time to time. It doesn't help that she's missing Phil the same time she's missing you. She says missing Phil and missing you is intertwined together. That when she misses Phil, she misses you and vice-versa.
Oh Mom, how do I get away from telling you how much you are dearly missed? It's hard when talking with you not to raise the fact that we are miserable without you. That life has become incomplete.
But I know, your time is done and we must accept it - no matter how hard it is to do so.
Well Mom, here is another conversation where I am telling you how hard it is without you by our side. All we have of you are memories... lets hope they won't fade as you have faded.
I love you Mom. R.I.P.
It's been a while since I last talked to you. It's not because I don't want to talk anymore, it's just that I couldn't think of what to say. I hate being repetitious and it seems that every time I talk with you I am always telling you how miserable I am now without you.
Mom, you know I miss you with all that is in me, but I don't think it's healthy anymore for me to keep dwelling on the fact that you are now gone. I will still talk with you, but I don't think I will keep on reiterating in various different ways how much you being gone is affecting us and me in particular.
I want to tell you that in 9 days Along will leave for England and will be there for a month. She's going to visit her fiance and give a test run on how life would be there when she moves there after her marriage. You would have loved Along forging ahead with her life, contemplating marriage and a family of her own.
At least one of your children is moving on with her life. Me? I'm still stuck in the same routine, not growing, not evolving. I don't know Mom. It's at times like this that I wish you were still around to reassure me that my life is progressing nicely. That in time I will find the answers to my questions about life.
Oh yes, Dad commented one time that it's like he doesn't matter in our equation when we write our blogs. I guess my blogs with you have always been focused on my feelings, my emotions, my heartbreak. I haven't really shared with you how Dad, Abang and Along are doing.
Well, I think you would know already that they all miss you terribly. Dad is handling his bereavement by being stoic and focusing on the betterment of his children's lives. He misses you a lot. I can tell that he is finding life without you unbearable at times. There are times when he would look really sad and I know he's thinking of you.
There was that one point in time when he refuse to shave off his beard. He looked so scruffy. But he shaved it off when we were going to visit you for your one year anniversary.
And Abang. He remembers all those times when you would sit by him and accompany him while he is playing his computer games. Now he plays by himself and he says he misses the times when you were sitting by his side. He would also say sometimes how my cooking pales to yours. He misses you being around Mom. And sometimes when he gets really sad, he says he would rather be there with you than be here without you. Of course I know he doesn't mean it, just that he misses you too much.
Then there's Along. I know she still cries for you from time to time. It doesn't help that she's missing Phil the same time she's missing you. She says missing Phil and missing you is intertwined together. That when she misses Phil, she misses you and vice-versa.
Oh Mom, how do I get away from telling you how much you are dearly missed? It's hard when talking with you not to raise the fact that we are miserable without you. That life has become incomplete.
But I know, your time is done and we must accept it - no matter how hard it is to do so.
Well Mom, here is another conversation where I am telling you how hard it is without you by our side. All we have of you are memories... lets hope they won't fade as you have faded.
I love you Mom. R.I.P.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Conversation With Mom 11
Hello my sweetest sorrow,
Tomorrow will be the one year anniversary of your death Mom. It's hard to believe that you've been gone for 364 days... tomorrow being the 365th day. I don't know what to say to you Mom... I think I've said often enough how empty and bereft I feel since you've been gone. What else is there to say? The pain still wouldn't lessen, it still feels fresh as if it was just yesterday that I was viewing your covered lifeless self.
Memories would flood me when we visit your grave on Saturday... not the date you died but the date we laid you in the ground. Dad insist that everyone of us wear the same thing we wore when we laid your body to rest.
But the difference is, when we visit your grave, we wouldn't see fresh earth, but instead your now resplendent grave fixture. If we have the opportunity, tomorrow Along and I will make bunga rampai (flower confetti) so we can scatter them over your grave.
I've missed you mom. Today your nephew by marriage, our cousin, Musli came. We had dinner together. What struck me and made me proud is that I can continue your legacy of delicious cooking. He said that at least I had time to learn the tricks of the kitchen from you, so now at least dad wouldn't feel so out of sorts because I still can cook like you used to.
I am so glad I learned to cook from you. It is something of you that I can bring into the future... should I have children of my own someday I can tell them, this is what grandma used to cook for me when I was your age.
Even though I feel sad that my children (if I ever have any) will never know you, as you will never know them, I will still have something of you to share with them.
I will share with my children the joys of cookery as you have shared with me and instill the love of the culinary arts in them as you have in me.
I'm sorry you never got to see any grandchildren mom. I still remember the desperation in your voice as you asked Along and I whether we were married yet or not when you were in the hospital. So sorry we could not give you your fondest wish; to see us both happily married with children of our own.
Maybe one of these days, while you are wherever you are now, you get to see from afar your fondest wish coming through. InsyaAllah (God Willing) Along will be getting married next year. And with blessings from Allah, maybe she will have the children you so wanted her to have.
Mom.... I'm sorry you couldn't be around to see us fulfill your wishes, but know that whatever happens now will happen with you in our hearts always.
I love you Mom.
Tomorrow will be the one year anniversary of your death Mom. It's hard to believe that you've been gone for 364 days... tomorrow being the 365th day. I don't know what to say to you Mom... I think I've said often enough how empty and bereft I feel since you've been gone. What else is there to say? The pain still wouldn't lessen, it still feels fresh as if it was just yesterday that I was viewing your covered lifeless self.
Memories would flood me when we visit your grave on Saturday... not the date you died but the date we laid you in the ground. Dad insist that everyone of us wear the same thing we wore when we laid your body to rest.
But the difference is, when we visit your grave, we wouldn't see fresh earth, but instead your now resplendent grave fixture. If we have the opportunity, tomorrow Along and I will make bunga rampai (flower confetti) so we can scatter them over your grave.
I've missed you mom. Today your nephew by marriage, our cousin, Musli came. We had dinner together. What struck me and made me proud is that I can continue your legacy of delicious cooking. He said that at least I had time to learn the tricks of the kitchen from you, so now at least dad wouldn't feel so out of sorts because I still can cook like you used to.
I am so glad I learned to cook from you. It is something of you that I can bring into the future... should I have children of my own someday I can tell them, this is what grandma used to cook for me when I was your age.
Even though I feel sad that my children (if I ever have any) will never know you, as you will never know them, I will still have something of you to share with them.
I will share with my children the joys of cookery as you have shared with me and instill the love of the culinary arts in them as you have in me.
I'm sorry you never got to see any grandchildren mom. I still remember the desperation in your voice as you asked Along and I whether we were married yet or not when you were in the hospital. So sorry we could not give you your fondest wish; to see us both happily married with children of our own.
Maybe one of these days, while you are wherever you are now, you get to see from afar your fondest wish coming through. InsyaAllah (God Willing) Along will be getting married next year. And with blessings from Allah, maybe she will have the children you so wanted her to have.
Mom.... I'm sorry you couldn't be around to see us fulfill your wishes, but know that whatever happens now will happen with you in our hearts always.
I love you Mom.
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