One event that is familiar to us all which comes once in awhile in our course of life whether to ourselves or our close ones is death.
Death is all too familiar to me. I have experienced death, though not my own yet but the ones very close and dear to me. My father died 2 years ago in his sleep. My brothers died when I was 10 and the other when I was 23yrs. After awhile I came to a conclusion that death sort of comes around in a 10yr-cycle for me. I can't help but have morbid thoughts about death. Each death has a personalised experience, different imprint in my life.
When my youngest brother died ( I am the youngest in the family), i lost a bestfriend and a protector. My second brother came up to me that day, hugging me in front of the toilet in our old house telling me that he will protect me now. Somehow at that point in time, he knew of that role my late brother had played in my life.
When my second brother died in 1998, i lost someone whom i looked up to, one who never fear failure and consequences. Who believed that opportunities do not wait for those who sit around, that you must seek opportunities. As I was much older during the time when this death happen, I felt a sense of bleakness. That if I closed my eyes all is black and dark. So there I was on my own. I can't help feeling selfish and thinking of myself as i am the youngest.
We raced to KL from Singapore one early morning as the condition of my brother had deteriorated. We cried all along while we were on the road. My mom and dad were there at the hospital. They have been camping at a fellow relative's place. I knew I was going to lose him. Some nagging feeling told me that it is over for us.
When we reached the hospital, I remembered my dad clearly said to me in a tone full of anger, confusion and despair, "What took us so long?" Yeah we should have just taken the flight down. Stupid me. But I wasn't in charge. And this lingered in me til now. Why didnt' we took a flight down. We didnt have the money I guess. That is something safe enough for me to guess for now. Would it made the difference?
Death was impending for both brothers. I was in denial. It was best for me. The hair was gone, the face was pale, the blood that was thrown up. I felt that there was more than enough time. But time was not on my side. Still I could not accept death and separation. That these persons were gone from the face of the earth. That I could no longer hear their voices. That their life has stopped and it felt that some part of mine that was interwined with theirs died along.
So when my dad passed away in his sleep, it caught me totally off guard. I was totally blown away from that news. Tuesday nite I was at the airport with the family sending off Jun to Melbourne. I was happy and just excited to be sending Jun off. On the way there in the taxi, my mom called me asking why i didn't come over to her place. I said I'm on the way to the airport. She said my dad was looking for Umar. There was a tinge of disappointment in her voice. I couldn't understand why bcs I was so self-absorbed. I said I'll come over the next day. But the next day I couldnt remember what happened. All i remember now is that I didnt turn up at the house again. My hubby had a shooting to do at the airport at 4am or so. 6.30 am I woke up for subuh. My mom called me. She said "I think ...I'm not sure but Abah dah takde". My world was gone then. I called my husband told him to come home straight. I picked my sister up from her place cos her phone line was cut. And rushed like a mad woman to the house. I couldn't accept that he had to go. Why now? Why the bloody hell that I didnt turn up the day before to the house. Why was I selfish? The days that passed by were so hard for me and the family. And I believe it is still hard for my mom. We lived by his legacy and his advice. That sort of keep him alive in us. At least in some of us. For weeks I could not accept that MY father was gone. I closed my eyes from time to time to hear his voice, see him in my mind's eye. Recalling conversations and things that we share. We were very close to each other. We have alot of things in common and we share passions and admiration for each other. I didn't know who to turn to, to help myself. I was seriously contemplating therapy.
In the end I found an online grieving support group. I joined and read newsletters and read entries by members who suffered loss and learning to survive. Life was awkward. Waking up everyday was awkward. I should just sulk until I feel better. Feeling anything even was just simply odd for me. I should just shut down for awhile. I felt guilty and I was trying real hard to appease myself. Giving myself reasons to move on. I didn't feel any better. I had to grow up now.
to be continued.....
