We went to the kubur last weekend. We found it best to go early in the morning when it's not too hot . Then we'd adjourned for breakfast. We don't do it weekly.Nor do we do it fortnightly but we do. We go because we need a reminder of where we will all go one day. And a reminder as to why we are put here on earth. And as I told Mazeed" it's odd to see to see your name on a tombstone isn't it?". It might not be his name but it's still part of his name. Marisa Mazeed.
While we were there was a man in his 80's walking towards us. He is my mum's friend's husband. Whenever we go there, he's there. I can only imagine the number of times he's visited her. He walks very slowly with his cane and sits on the bench next to his wife's grave.I can see the sadness in his face. He was only a few graves away. I wondered to myself 'How would it feel to lose a spouse?' I saw my mum when my dad passed away. She went daily for two or three years. It was like she was lost without him. And since my dad passed when I was 19 and still unmarried I could never understand how she felt or why she needed to go so often.
I think my mum and I have that in common. I have lost two people that I love so so much. I lost someone who was part of me . She lost her love life. Her partner . The man who did everything for her and would always drop by 7 Eleven on his way back from work to buy her Slurpee just because it was her favourite. He was a good good husband. Till today after 23 years of his passing , she still goes to visit his grave. She still talks about him and she just removed his clothes from their wardrobe. It took her that long. She never pined on to his loss but she wanted his memory to live on and she wanted to remind us that we are what we are because of what my dad has given. A religious background , upbringing and education. Four daughters brought up by a man who insisted that we can be anything we wanted to be. My mum continued to bring us up. Still correcting us when we are way into ur 40's and 50's. I think we are what are we are because of my mum. Strong headed and very determined because we were always told we are good enough to be anything we wanted to be.
I think thats one of the reasons why accepting Marisa's illness didn't feel like a burden for me. I was brought up to be strong and to believe that I can do anything. And if it gets hard , I will try my best to make the best of it. I remember my dad telling me continuously 'Man proposes, God disposes". He was so right.....
How I bring up my kids now will determine how they will turn out. I still remember every berleter, rotan, and tindik I had to do just because I can't remember my multiplications. I remember my mum chasing me around the house for being naughty. Good memories. I now remember me how hard it was disciplining my kids because I had to focus on Marisa. Mazhar was a bit a of a challenge and I was so angry about I can't even remember about what . I started chasing him around the house and Marisa thought it was so funny and she laughed and laughed and kept telling me I'm the weirdest mum ever. I think I am. I agree with her.I can remember her laughing so loudly and it was a good sound. Her laughter . The laughter of my ill child. I love being a mum. Nothing more satisfying than that. And I figured I only have a good 18/20 years to really enjoy them so I will spend all my moments with them. As i did with Marisa and as my dad did with me.
It's been 1 year , 3 months and 2 days since she left. Melissa asked me earlier today "Mum, why do you still cry when we go to the kubur?". I don't know how to answer her. It's just something I do now. It's part of my life to always miss Marisa. And when I stand by her grave, I hope that when I die someone will remember to offer me a prayer and to have all the wonderful memories I had with them . Melissa also mentioned to me that Kakak's soul will be free soon . Yes, it's true. Ramadhan is approaching. It'll be our second Ramadhan without her. Somehow, the truth is my heart has not healed with time. So, I must learn to accept and carry on the best I can...
While we were there was a man in his 80's walking towards us. He is my mum's friend's husband. Whenever we go there, he's there. I can only imagine the number of times he's visited her. He walks very slowly with his cane and sits on the bench next to his wife's grave.I can see the sadness in his face. He was only a few graves away. I wondered to myself 'How would it feel to lose a spouse?' I saw my mum when my dad passed away. She went daily for two or three years. It was like she was lost without him. And since my dad passed when I was 19 and still unmarried I could never understand how she felt or why she needed to go so often.
I think my mum and I have that in common. I have lost two people that I love so so much. I lost someone who was part of me . She lost her love life. Her partner . The man who did everything for her and would always drop by 7 Eleven on his way back from work to buy her Slurpee just because it was her favourite. He was a good good husband. Till today after 23 years of his passing , she still goes to visit his grave. She still talks about him and she just removed his clothes from their wardrobe. It took her that long. She never pined on to his loss but she wanted his memory to live on and she wanted to remind us that we are what we are because of what my dad has given. A religious background , upbringing and education. Four daughters brought up by a man who insisted that we can be anything we wanted to be. My mum continued to bring us up. Still correcting us when we are way into ur 40's and 50's. I think we are what are we are because of my mum. Strong headed and very determined because we were always told we are good enough to be anything we wanted to be.
I think thats one of the reasons why accepting Marisa's illness didn't feel like a burden for me. I was brought up to be strong and to believe that I can do anything. And if it gets hard , I will try my best to make the best of it. I remember my dad telling me continuously 'Man proposes, God disposes". He was so right.....
How I bring up my kids now will determine how they will turn out. I still remember every berleter, rotan, and tindik I had to do just because I can't remember my multiplications. I remember my mum chasing me around the house for being naughty. Good memories. I now remember me how hard it was disciplining my kids because I had to focus on Marisa. Mazhar was a bit a of a challenge and I was so angry about I can't even remember about what . I started chasing him around the house and Marisa thought it was so funny and she laughed and laughed and kept telling me I'm the weirdest mum ever. I think I am. I agree with her.I can remember her laughing so loudly and it was a good sound. Her laughter . The laughter of my ill child. I love being a mum. Nothing more satisfying than that. And I figured I only have a good 18/20 years to really enjoy them so I will spend all my moments with them. As i did with Marisa and as my dad did with me.
It's been 1 year , 3 months and 2 days since she left. Melissa asked me earlier today "Mum, why do you still cry when we go to the kubur?". I don't know how to answer her. It's just something I do now. It's part of my life to always miss Marisa. And when I stand by her grave, I hope that when I die someone will remember to offer me a prayer and to have all the wonderful memories I had with them . Melissa also mentioned to me that Kakak's soul will be free soon . Yes, it's true. Ramadhan is approaching. It'll be our second Ramadhan without her. Somehow, the truth is my heart has not healed with time. So, I must learn to accept and carry on the best I can...