Sunday, November 11, 2012

What 11 November means to me?

I still remember at this point of time last two years. I was at Changi General Hospital. Sitting on the floor. Hugging my knees. With my face buried in between. Helpless outside the ICU room. Hoping for a miracle to happen. Though I know it's impossible.

I'd give up everything just to save his life. I'd give up anything, anything at all. But I guess it was already written that at 923pm ayah breathed his last. Innalillah wa inna ilaihi raji'un.

It's been two years now, ayah. Two years. I've got so many things to tell you. I've got so many things to share.

I fell ill again earlier this year, ayah. I had to undergo an operation. I was hospitalized for almost two weeks, left all alone in the ward at night. And then I remember you. How it was like back then when I was younger. When hospitals, needles and colourful pills were my bestfriend. I had you. The one who kept me company at night playing card games though I know he was tired. The one who offered his hand for warmth when I was freezing to death in the ward. The one who offered his lap for me to sleep on when the bed wasn't comfortable enough. But I guess you're no longer here next to me to offer all that.

Like you always do.

I'm in NIE now, ayah. I'm on my way achieving my dreams. Your wishes. I'm going to be a Malay teacher when I graduate. Can you believe it? I can't believe I survived ALevels either. I remember how worried you were when I told you I failed my GP. I told you at the rate I was going, I was never gonna make it to a university. But you believed in me. You never failed to encourage me.

Like you always do.

I'm an author now, ayah. I've published two books. Can you believe it? I can't believe it either. All these while it was you (and ibu) who suggested me to write and submit my works to the paper. I dunno how I survived writing a manuscript in your absence. I wonder how you feel if you're here right now, ayah. Are you proud of who I am now? Since you've been gone I've appeared in articles here and there, ayah. But I didn't cut them out. I couldn't bring myself to. Cause you're not here to laminate them.

Like you always do.

Ayah, I miss you.

Jaafar Bin Hussin, 11 November 2010.

1 comment:

  1. hi. i am truly sorry for your loss - my arwah ibu passed away two years after my arwah nenek - and everything still feels so surreal and foreign to me even after 5 years. Sesungguhnya ALLAH lebih mengetahui dan lebih menyayangi mereka. stay strong. and i am certain that your ayah is really proud of you, because i would be. *hugs*