in memory

My first memory of her.

I woke up one evening on a strange bed, strange room. There's one boy, much older than me, was playing with my hair while talking to somebody about me. He was her youngest son and was talking to her. She was folding some clothes neatly at the end of the bed while looking at us. Then, there was a strange sound outside. My uncle said it was raining and she just smiled at me. We sat and talk about school, friends, food, ambition...

My first favorite food with her.

It was Nasi Lemak. For all I know, I was a plump little girl back when I was 11 years old. I like most of the things cooked with santan. I like chocolate too so whenever I went back to the house, she would ask her sons to get me bars of Snickers, sometimes M&M or Mars. Especially Mars for I love caramel.

My last dinner with her.

It was during Ramadan. I was really sleepy. Something I would regret because I was sleeping on her sofa since I came into the house until Mom and Dad returned from the bazaar. Dad was not in a good mood. I dislike him being that way. He seemed to refuse to talk to anybody. I don't care, though. Our point of coming to that house on that particular day was to break our fast with her. Her daughter-in-law cooked us simple meals. We ate together. I remembered that was the day she was mistaken me by my mother. I thought that I might looked too old that my mother might looked younger than me. I am thankful that I shook her hand, kissed it and kissed her cheek before I left.

My last moment with her.

Which was the last time I saw her. She wore white. Her face was pale and white. Her son youngest son was sobbing beside her. Everybody else were doing the same. I sat by her feet. Looking, probably staring. My youngest sister, who sat beside me was confused. She shifted every now and then. Dad was beside her too. Everybody crowded and took turn to kiss and hug her last goodbye. I did, too.
Then, she was gone.

I didn't realize that she won't come back until my sister asked this question,
"Berapa lama dia pergi, kak? Orang meninggal berapa kali?"
I asked her to sit quietly and stay with me. It was her first time at a funeral.



I already miss her. And I kept thinking about it. I kept thinking about death. Wan wouldn't know when is her time to go.
On the very last day of Ramadan, she went to the toilet to take her wudu' before it was time for Asar prayer. Then, her leg was crammed in sudden. She couldn't move. They brought her to the hospital and she laid unconscious for few days. She woke up losing most of her memories. She was talking to the people about the past and later, about the present. Then, she went to sleep for a long time. She woke up just by opening her eyes for few minutes and went back to sleep. It happened a few times before finally, doctor said that there's nothing they could do. She was fine but she wouldn't want to wake up. They brought her home, recite Surah Yasin and she left.

When I thought about it, her last intention before she became unconscious was having her wudu' to go and pray. I am always scared of dying while doing something that Allah dislikes but Wan, once said to me 'Semua manusia pun ada baik buruk dia. Bukan semua orang sama.' when I was complaining to her about a person.

I am going to do my poem project for her.
I feel sad because I said to her that one day, I will drive a car for her.
I feel sad because she wanted to meet Twelve and I was almost there with Twelve but I didn't visit her.
I feel sad because she wanted to see me and my brother graduate.



footnote: Lelaki kalau jawab phone dalam library memang suka cakap kuat-kuat ya?

footnoteuntukNussow: Kau ni kenaapaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?