Ayah

I know life isn’t as what you always want them to be. Stated in the Holy Quran that God won’t test with what He thinks you can’t bear. A month and fourteen days has gone by since his sudden departed and although life at home has shifted back to normal, I still sense my dad’s presence in the house. I think we all did. Like someone watching over our shoulders. Now it’s just the three of us.

Sure the first few days were so hard, so bad. I couldn’t sleep at night thinking of what could have happened to him that fateful Friday afternoon. I hope he didn’t experience lots of pain when he had the heart attack or when he fell.

The day we took the body home was heartbreaking for me. My two uncles and I went to identify the body while the rest waited outside the observation room. And I broke into tears just looking at him lying there in the next room through the mirror.
Mum’s wish to get the body home as soon as possible was deterred as dad’s body had to be detained for post mortem.

Slightly after 2pm, we were on our way home. There, friends and relative crowded to see dad for the last time. Mum said many more came earlier but had to leave for work.

We bathe him, those who wish, place pacai and then set off to Al-Istiqamah mosque to pray. The mosque at Serangoon North was where he was last seen alive during performing his Friday prayers. He managed to finish his responsibilities there as a official volunteer before setting off back to work which is a five minutes walk away. That was when tragic strike.

It touched my heart, how on a Saturday, people having religious classes and those in the mosque all who knew him came together to pray. I notice this one man who walk with a very distinctive limp on one leg rush forward to carry dad’s coffin to the center. I don’t even know that man. I’m certain at some point dad must had entered his life like he did to many other people.

Donations poured in from every corner and stranger. I couldn’t thank everyone enough for their donations and physical help. I felt a lump in my throat whole day and couldn’t shake it off.

Sitting in the van to Pusara Aman made me even more distraught. I recited Al-Fateha non stop and pray for God to pardon his wrong-doings and would place him in a good place.

And I feel bad and sometimes disturbed when I throw away his favourite items around the house. I had thrown away all the wedding souvenirs and invitations card which back dated as far as 1994. Those working watches are still in his drawer and sunglasses are in mine. We went through his letters looking for any outstanding bills or fee during his life. Alhamdulillah, there were none.

Dad’s shirts, two bags full, were given away to my uncle in Selangor. We all gathered at home yesterday for a forty-day tahlil. Mum even gave away dad’s fishing net which I did not see him use even once. Earlier, dad’s two keris were also given away.

At the same time I felt truly blessed that we still manage to spend this year Hari Raya as a family of four. I still manage to seek forgiveness in the morning for Eid Fitri and truly hope didn’t make him worry about me so much. A week before the incident, we manage to witness the wedding of my cousin.

It’s amazing how a major incident manage to budge all good emotions into one massive misery. But life needs to move on.