I would wake up early in the morning just to make sure I wouldn't be left behind. My grandfather would put me on the bike, that I would only sit in front of him. He took me to a food stall, and there I would have my favourite; bread with coconut jam. Then he would buy me some toys that were wrapped nicely in small packets, with some chocolate candies packed together.
He brought me to his orchard, and I would sit in a hut, playing with my toys. Meanwhile he would take hours to run his precious land of fruits and I didn't mind waiting. In fact, I wasn't really waiting for him to finish since I got toys to spend my time with.
There was once my right foot was stung by a honey bee and I cried so loudly. Grandfather stomped it so angrily and said, "how dare you touched my grandson!". Then he had a look at my already-swollen foot, recited something and assured me everything would end up alright. Every night when he got home from the mosque, I would purposely crawl and pretend that I was still a baby to greet him, calling "Atok! Atok!" and he would take me up on his shoulder and say, "That's my grandson!"
He loved me so much, as much as I did for him. He told me that he would never let me down. He whispered in my ear, "I don't like seeing my grandson cry because he didn't get what he wanted". So he always gave me everything I ever wanted as long as he could afford it. But don't get him wrong. He was very strict. He would cane me so hardly if I did something wrong. I would cry, but I never ran away. Then he would appraise me for being brave.
He died when I was 17, the night before my first SPM paper. It was Additional Mathematics. He suffered from a stroke, and for years he had been paralyzed and couldn't move, or talk properly, or smile, or buy me toys, or take me to places, or even punish me when I wronged. He died in his sleep while I was sleeping at home.
I saw a lot of old people playing chess with one another in a place. That place was meant for them, or that was what their children believed. I no longer want to say anything about them treating their folks such a way, and I hope I'll never do the same thing to mine. But what I care about is the grandchildren. Will they ever get the chance to be held dear by their grandparents like I did? Will they ever taste the joy of being taken up on shoulders, or to orchards and other places? Why can't they have the same thing, if not better, like their parents did when they were kids?
Why.
Related post:
http://youcannotreadthis.blogspot.com/2009/09/true-story-of-dad-and-death.html
Why I English
5 weeks ago
8 comments:
Salam,
Exactly at 11.04 pm on Thursday-a fortnight ago,my grandmother died. I was in front of her when she drew her last breath,and it was my first experience witnessing death in front of my very own eyes. And she's my only grandmother left then. The moment was...unbearable. I broke into tears when the doctor confirmed to us that she had passed away. It was stroke too,that damaged her left part of the brain,leaving her half-paralyzed. Since then her condition worsen,and the doctor finally put her with anesthetic to ease her pain-she never opened her eyes until the last day of her life.
I was lucky she 'waited' for me to come back and have my last chance to look after her on her last night,I was very lucky indeed for the doctor told that she stood very little chance to live. I was struggling to get an emergency leave to reach her then. And even after a fortnight,I still miss her,badly. As I kissed her cold forehead there was no fear at all,but a very hollow feelings of 'rindu yg tramat mndlm,yg x kesampaian.' Because only then did I know that when I kissed her forehead during raya,it was the last. And there was nothing else I could do,I couldn't tell her how much I love her anymore,but to sit by her and recite never ending prayers..how I want her to know,that I love her so much,I can never put a thousand of letters just to spell 'I really miss you,thanks for all of your love for me ever since I was born.'
May our loved ones rest in peace and be showered with His kind blessings,amin.. Let them be immortal in our sweetest memory. And let's pray too,that Allah will spare us the time to cherish with them,our beloved,by our sides. We should never let someone else like the nurses in the old folks' homes to take over this responsibility,certainly not..
phyto hystrix: that's exactly my point. i'm not sure if i'm strong enough to take care of them on my own, my at least i never have in mind about sending them to that place. thanks for sharing :)
a very heart warming post! *sniffs*
suying: *sniffs* thank you :)
:'(
this is a beautiful piece. poignant, but beautiful nevertheless. ala youu, at least he passed away in his sleep. tenang je.
:)
*reading al-fatihah quietly in a corner*
merissa k: thank you. yup, he died peacefully. thank you again:)
reminiscing on the lost of my grandma and my stepdad now.. ='(
sad but true, children are busy with their lives that they forget about their parents.. I for one will always care for my mum, as she's the only parent I have left..
najmie: my mom is the only parent i have too..
Post a Comment