My Mak

Back in 2009, on Mother’s Day, I wrote a posting on how I felt about my Mak.

How much I loved her. How much she meant to me. How grateful I was for all the things, sacrifices and everything she did for me.

How I loved our at-least-5-times-a-week phone conversations and enjoying every minute of them listening to her stories.

How I appreciated her for lending me her shoulders and ears when I was down. How I valued the tips and advices she gave. How much it truly meant for us in helping us coping with having two special children and during our ups and downs.

How happy I was to see the sparkle in Mak’s eyes or the happiness in her voice everytime she was with good news. And just how painful it was for me to see or hear her cry.

I wrote about the unconditional love she gave, and about why she never once raised her voice to me. How I loved her babying her grown-up children and grandchildren. And how I adored her perfections... and imperfections.

I wrote about how great a cook she was. How I loved her air tangan. Of how contagious her smiles and laughters were. Of how gentle the words she spoke. Of how much I loved her that it hurts.

I remember writing how I wanted her to be there forever for me and my family.

I wanted her to be IMMORTAL. And that I know was simply impossible.

That was when I stopped writing the entry. I just couldn’t fathom the thoughts of not having her anymore in our lives. And it felt rather childish, a 43yo wishing her mom to live forever. Get a grip, I told myself. Nothing lasts forever.

Thus I made this post instead.

How I wish I’ve posted the first entry which I’ve deleted. So that she knew how much she meant to me when she read my blog. How much I loved her.

Now my Mak is gone.

She who meant the world to me. Whom I still need. Whom I never dared to imagine could die, had died.

But Allah knows best. Although it was sudden, we were given the chance to say our goodbyes when she was in a coma. We gave her our hugs and kisses. We held her hands. We talked to her. We recited prayers and gave her our do’as. In her deep sleep we knew she’d be in safe hands when she was ready to leave.

My heart was torn to pieces as I struggled to prepare for her loss.
And within that <60 hours, she left us. Peacefully.

Exactly two months ago.
Thursday 24th November 2011 @ 3:57am.
She was 69. Massive Subarachnoid Hemorrhage.

It was excruciatingly painful to lose someone you love.

But I have accepted everything with my utmost redho.

Innalillahi wainna ilahiroji’un – From Allah We Came and Unto Him is Our Return.


.................... 9th August 1942 - 24th November 2011 ...............

May Allah grant my Mak, DATIN RAHMI JURAU, the highest place in the Jannah. Semoga Mak tenang di sana di samping orang-orang yang Beriman. Amiin.

**To those who still have their Maks, or Ayahs – ‘enjoy’ having them in your lives while you can coz when she/he’s gone, they’re REALLY GONE**

Au Revoir!

Au Revoir my dear Matrix! Thank you for the good five years you've shared with me...



Come visit me when you can... And please take care of the new owners - like what you did with me.





Meanwhile, say Hello to my new car... sleek, huh?


drool...

drool...

drool...

drool...

See Lewis Hamilton posing for me?



Hehehe.. perasan... Dream on Dreamweaver!

(Actually I shot this beauty during the Sepang F1 race on 23rd March08. Pretty neat...)

Huh... Finally I drove my new car this morning - after 5 days of it being stationary in the car porch. I'm trying to get use to it. Love it, but I do miss you my Matrix.

But I'm very sure you're in capable hands now :) Take care of your owner and the family for me, ok?

Goodbye Gabby

I was waiting for the red light to turn green when I realized there was a missed-call on my handphone. It was Kenny, our good friend whom we’ve known for 14 years. Since the traffic light was still red and the displayed numbers showed 56, I knew I had time to return the call. 56 seconds was enough... so I thought.

We did a quick hello. However I could detect a different tone in Kenny’s voice.

Kak, do you remember Gabby?

Gabby... the one who did the landscape? Sure I remember her. Why?

Dia sudah tak ada, Kak.. sudah meninggal...

Laaaa...bila?

Sudah lama Kak... Chinese New Year.. I pun baru saja tau...

I wanted to ask more but the traffic light had just turned green, so I had to say goodbye and disconnect the call. All the way home I kept thinking about this young girl I met in May last year. Gabby did the landscaping for our house. She was a landscape towkey’s daughter in Bukit Rimau. Even though she had a few Bangladeshis working for her, she preferred to roll-up her sleeves and dug in the soil and filth. An example of youthful exuberance. Sometimes she would come alone and did the work around the house. And I would always tease her when she could easily pick up heavy pots on her own.

Waa... Gabby... you kuat macam jantan la...

And she would laugh at that.

Reaching home, I could see the three Fox Tail trees she planted for us.... looking tall and proud. While walking towards my Hanis who was cheering “Ibu balik, Ibu balik”, I realized that the Java Palm, the Mother-in-law’s Tongue plants and the grass that I was stepping on - all had been planted by her. Suddenly I got teary-eyed. This girl who was not of great importance in our lives when she was alive had actually left something behind for us to remember her by.

I believe that every person who enters our lives - significant or insignificant that person may be - will surely leave a mark behind, whether we realize it or not. And dear Gabby did just that. She planted those plants and trees, and as long as they survive, her memory will still be with us....