This Is Not Good Bye.

I didn't have a hard time to leave my family behind after spending four or five weeks with them in my previous visits. I hugged and kissed Mak a few times. I cried and kissed and hugged her again and again like I never wanted to let her go.

I cried, I kissed and I hugged my sister KakNgah many times. I walked past a divider, I stopped and I turned around, pulled Mak and KN and hugged them again. I cried as I waved goodbye to them. I cried as I walked away toward a departure gate.

With all the tears, and kissing and hugging, I didn't experience an overwhelm sadness as I experienced last Wednesday. I never felt that kind of lost and longing as I experienced on the day I flew back to Boston.

The last time when I walked into my apartment, I didn't feel loss like I felt this time. There was not a single moment I felt my heart being squeezed dry and replaced it with sorow like I felt last Wednesday. Not even once. But last Wednesday, I felt like my blood being painfully squeezed from my heart and replaced it with longing and helplessness.

20 hours layover at Kowloon Int'l Airport didn't faze me. I was busy feeling sad and missing KakNgah. All I wanted was to go back to Pokok Asam and be with her again.

Back in my apartment 46 hours later, I sat at my computer and poured through all the photos I took with her while I was home. My luggage sat wide open in the living room. The hand carry luggage stood near a dryer in the kitchen.

I didn't call any of my best friends to let them know that I was back. I skyped with KakNgah, my grandnephew D'Haikal, my baby brother Adik, and my niece Muna. I chatted for an hour with KakNgah. I told her I already missed her as soon as I untangled my arms around her at Bayan Lepas departure lounge. Her lips quivered when she said she wished I could stay longer.

The next day, I walked around my apartment in daze and sleep deprived. I still felt loss. I called my best friend Prisca. I told her how I felt this time compared to tmy previous visits. I choked over the words and wondered to her why?

She listened and didn't say word. Finally, when I stopped, gently and tenderly and as calm as Ridge A, on the Artic Plateau, deliberately and slowly, she said, "It's mortal."

The sound waves struck the transmitter and made it vibrates. And the word went right to my core.

I burst into tears. The tears couldn't stop as Prisca shared her same experience when she went to viist his sick uncle in Singapore a few months back.

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When we were younger we didn't think much about dying, about leaving behind the people we love. Like any Malays, I learned about dying when I was still young. When we visited dying neigbors, relatives we know they were dying. Some of us have witnessed the process of dying of our grandparents, parents or relatives. We recited Surah Yasin when we visited the dead.

And like most Malays I know, I watched the process of preparing the body for the burial. A ritual purification of ablution prior to shrouding.

I sat next to Abah when Mak whispered Shahadah into his ears. I saw him mouthed the words. He did it three times. The last time he said the shahadah with his eyes. I saw his last breath left his body. Calm and quiet.

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I was at my grandmother side when she died.

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I was at one of my twin brothers died. He was 11.

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I remember once my father said, "As soon as we are born, we are dying."

He was absolutely right. We are not getting away from death. We are all approaching death.

But, why this time?

Long after I put down the phone, I realized it wasn't the death subject that sent me into hyperventilated.

It was the fear that we might not see each other again.

Kakngah, may Allah bless us with excellent health, peaceful of mind, loving, caring, forgiving and kind heart, strengths, and our Creator guide us with ability to look into ourselves.

I love you, KakNgah.

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[sitiaishah]

Beth,
You're absolutely right.I love her more and more as day goes by, something I never experienced before. Thank you for your kind words.

[Beth]

Ana, I'm sorry I didn't see this post for a whole month! I was traveling too. Your words and the beautiful photos brought tears to my eyes. I know. It's very hard. And the more we love the people we leave, the harder it is, but how lucky we are to love and be loved! Your sister is lucky to have you, too, and I'm sure she is wishing the very same things. Sending you a big hug!

[sitiaishah]

Thanks your comment. You missed the point. It was not about fear of the death.

[Gurindam Jiwa]

Death is not a negative thing. It is part of living.

There is this song that says "the soul afraid of dying ... never learns to live."

The Rose: Lyrics and Song Music by Amanda McBroom