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.
Friday, December 30, 2011
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.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Un-cauterized Pain
It will be one year since Mom passed away on November 4th 2011. One year of feeling out of sorts and incomplete. Being without Mom as long as a year has not lessened the impact of losing her.
It still hurts as if it was just yesterday that I last saw Mom alive. I can still remember vividly the coldness that had seeped into my heart as I watched the nurses take off the life support system from Mom's lifeless body.
I know I've said this before, but I still wonder if this is one wound that time cannot heal or whether not enough time has passed by for the pain to lessen.
I miss Mom so very, very much. Everyday is a struggle to exist on earth with the knowledge that Mom is no longer there to walk beside me as I go through this journey we call life.
I don't know if this pain will always be there in my heart - an open wound that cannot be cauterized.
I know one should let the deceased rest and not bother them with worry of the miseries those left behind are suffering, yet I just can't help but suffer the pain of losing Mom.
Lately I have been posting my conversations with Mom. I haven't really posted anything where I am not speaking directly to Mom; reason being I miss the actual conversations I used to have with her. There just have been so many things that I wanted her to know - made sense to strike conversations with her, instead of eulogizing her all the time.
But today. Today I want to share with the world the pain I've been carrying inside of me for the last 11 months and closing on 12.
I don't know if there'll ever come a time when I think of Mom and this constant ache in my heart won't be there. From what my cousins told me, they got used to talking about their father with just fondness minus the pain. But my uncle has passed away for quite a while. Maybe in years to come, I too will be able to look back and think of Mom simply with happy remembrance and no trace of the pain that is still so very prevalent in my daily thoughts of Mom at this moment in time.
I guess I'll just have to wait and see if time will heal this wound in my heart. Either that or learn to live with a constant ache there.
It still hurts as if it was just yesterday that I last saw Mom alive. I can still remember vividly the coldness that had seeped into my heart as I watched the nurses take off the life support system from Mom's lifeless body.
I know I've said this before, but I still wonder if this is one wound that time cannot heal or whether not enough time has passed by for the pain to lessen.
I miss Mom so very, very much. Everyday is a struggle to exist on earth with the knowledge that Mom is no longer there to walk beside me as I go through this journey we call life.
I don't know if this pain will always be there in my heart - an open wound that cannot be cauterized.
I know one should let the deceased rest and not bother them with worry of the miseries those left behind are suffering, yet I just can't help but suffer the pain of losing Mom.
Lately I have been posting my conversations with Mom. I haven't really posted anything where I am not speaking directly to Mom; reason being I miss the actual conversations I used to have with her. There just have been so many things that I wanted her to know - made sense to strike conversations with her, instead of eulogizing her all the time.
But today. Today I want to share with the world the pain I've been carrying inside of me for the last 11 months and closing on 12.
I don't know if there'll ever come a time when I think of Mom and this constant ache in my heart won't be there. From what my cousins told me, they got used to talking about their father with just fondness minus the pain. But my uncle has passed away for quite a while. Maybe in years to come, I too will be able to look back and think of Mom simply with happy remembrance and no trace of the pain that is still so very prevalent in my daily thoughts of Mom at this moment in time.
I guess I'll just have to wait and see if time will heal this wound in my heart. Either that or learn to live with a constant ache there.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Conversation With Mom 10
Mommy dear,
Abang went on a 4 days trip to Taman Negara. He left on Tuesday and came back on Friday.
It was an excruciating time for dad and I and were you still alive I know you would have suffered the separation as well. Only Along seemed ok with it. When asked, Along said she had set her mind that Abang will be gone for certain number of days and so she didn't miss him. She said her heart wouldn't be able to take it if she is missing boy on top of missing you and Phil.
I don't know about Along. She confounds me sometime.
But I did miss Abang a lot. It's not like missing you though, because I know I'll see Abang again, unlike missing you where being able to see you again would come only when death claims me too.
I'm having this conversation with you to share Abang's trip with you. I know you would want to be kept up to date on what's going on around here. Abang had a wonderful time. He said the experience that trip gave him was AWESOME.
Abang went on a 4 days trip to Taman Negara. He left on Tuesday and came back on Friday.
It was an excruciating time for dad and I and were you still alive I know you would have suffered the separation as well. Only Along seemed ok with it. When asked, Along said she had set her mind that Abang will be gone for certain number of days and so she didn't miss him. She said her heart wouldn't be able to take it if she is missing boy on top of missing you and Phil.
I don't know about Along. She confounds me sometime.
But I did miss Abang a lot. It's not like missing you though, because I know I'll see Abang again, unlike missing you where being able to see you again would come only when death claims me too.
I'm having this conversation with you to share Abang's trip with you. I know you would want to be kept up to date on what's going on around here. Abang had a wonderful time. He said the experience that trip gave him was AWESOME.
Abang and his friends cooking in Taman Negara
You would have been so proud of him Mom. He said his friends commented on how lucky they were that Abang was on that trip because Abang was always so helpful and dependable.
He is so big now Mom. So grown up at 16. I wish you could see him now. Your little boy is now a very mature young man. He did a lot of growing up in the year since you've been gone.
I know I've told you this before, but Abang is really affected by your death. He misses you so much. But like in one of my earlier post, he is so afraid that he'd forget you. I assured him, he might forget minor things sometimes, but he'll never forget the important things - like how much you loved him and want him to grow up into a respectable man.
Well Mom, you'd be so proud of him now. He is a kind and considerate teenager. He is ever so polite and courteous. Everything you raises him up to be. I want to share with you a picture of him looking so happy on his trip.
Abang, sitting in the river in Taman Negara
Doesn't he look so happy Mom? There are not a lot of moments when he is truly happy nowadays. More often than not at home he is brooding and thinking dark thoughts. But I'll not tell you about his unhappy thoughts. I just wanted to share with you how happy he was during that trip and how I know that despite missing him, you too would be so pleased to know that he had a wonderful time during his trip.
I'll leave you now Mom and will talk again when I have more to say to you. In the meantime R.I.P.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)