A Monologue With Mum

Hey Mum,

Yesterday, it's been one year since you left all of us, for the next world.

And I just wanted to say that nothing has been the same, since you've gone. And that I miss you a lot.

Even though we never really saw eye-to-eye. Even though we were strangers in the same family, but yet not quite. Even though we struggled to find things to say to each other, when you were alive.

Even though with all my heart, I wish that things were different between us and that we should have been given the opportunity to become more like a mother and child.

And time enough perhaps, for you to hold the first grandchild from me. She would have adored you - you were an amazing grandmother. I had always envied my nephews and nieces and the attention and affection, you showered on them. It always seemed like it was a bit too late for me, to try.

I miss your cooking, I miss the way you pamper me silly and I even miss the awkward silences between us, in front of the TV. But I want you to know, that even when I struggled to find things to say to you, having your presence there, comforted me.

The house in Regent's Ville is just a family house - but your presence was my home, Mum. Your presence made me feel, like I belonged somewhere.

And unfortunately, I only realized that, after you were gone.

I pray that you're in a better place now. I pray that you have met Ayah again. I remember shedding a tear, on the day after your funeral when Makcik Zah said - "Let her go. Dah lama dah Ayah tunggu dia,....it's his turn to be with her now".

No, life has not been the same without you.

Yes, the last one year has been full of lessons of what's meaningful and what's important to me. Yes, getting older has taken on a new dimension, when you've lost your roots and you have no one else to live for, but yourself. And yes, the family home, is so empty without you.

But yes - I still carry all the important lessons that you've taught and exemplified to me - respect for one's elders, to be forgiving of the weakness of others, to always try my best in the things that matter, that respect, trust and tolerance are the most important things in a marriage, other than love, that a person is only as good as his strongly-held principles, to be kind to the poor and that whatever it is, my anchor in life, is to return to path of God. I have not forgotten, Mum.

And I shall pass these values on to my children, hopefully - if I'm given the opportunity to have them.

It's ironic that both you and Ayah left us in the month of August, 3 days off each other, but 20 years apart. Some other significant events in my life has happened in August too, Mum. August seems to be a sad month for me, nowadays.

I miss both of you, very much. But believe me, that I carry both of you around with me everyday, in the way I try to live my life. Both of you are there in every act of giving, thoughtfulness and kindness that I spare, to another human being.

And even though I can't hear your voice, your humour and contagious laughter anymore - your memory sticks fresh on my mind. I remember everything, Mum - all the good things.

Enjoy your rest, Mum. Don't worry about me - I'm stronger than I look and I promise I will live a life that will make both you and Ayah, proud.

I miss you, Mum. And I want to say something that I should have said more often, when you were alive - I love you, Mum. You and Ayah both. Very, very much.

Rest now, Mum - you've earned this rest for all the sacrifices that you have made for your children - some of which were invisible to us, while you were alive.

Rest now and know that you're always in my thoughts, especially when I think of what's missing most, in my life.

May God bless your soul, Mum. Al-Fatihah.