This is the 10th Ramadhan without him.
I was 5 when I was all so clingy and wanted bike ride in the
evening. Stopped at some stall for roti canai and teh ais.
I was 6 when I followed him to the paddy field and got lost.
I was very panic since I could not find him anywhere. I nearly cried but I knew
I did not. I panic but I tried my best to find my way back.
I came home running, smiling. I proudly told him that my tok
guru (quran teacher) said I could start reciting quran for the next class. For
us kids back then, it was such an achievement if you could pass the muqaddam
test and proceed to read Al-quran. The next day, he came home with a red Al-quran
and ordered rehal (beautifully carved woods to place the quran while reading). I
marched to the class pompously- all confident to start my quran lesson. I was
7.
I define that as the most precious gift that I ever
received.
I was in boarding school when my warden called me into her
office and broke the news. One of the two important men in my life had gone. The
kind of “gone” that I couldn’t just search facebook or google to find his
whereabout or just for a few hours to the paddy field and came back home tired.
Then, who would buy me my favourite roti canai and teh ais or wake me up for
subuh (fajr) prayer. I was not very shock since deep down my heart I knew he
would not stay longer but I never expected that sooner. So I thanked my warden
and asked permission to go back to class. I looked out the window and tears
were strolling my cheeks. The grass outside never been that greener. I felt
something had been snatched away. I felt lost. What would I do to cope with the
fact that from that day onwards, there would be no him during semester breaks. So
I cried. I cried silently in my sleep, in my prayers for the next few weeks.
The last few years, I searched for a torchlight for whatever
reasons. That was 5 years after he’d gone. Then. I saw his baju melayu hang on
the railings, and I cried right there and then. I guess that’s the effect when
you dearly love someone and you miss them terribly. I think people cry because
they miss people they love who love them even more.
I think I cry because I miss him so much sometimes. The
accumulated portion of miss. And knowing that was one of the best blessing in
my life, I should be more grateful. Not everyone has the opportunity to live
with their grandfather like I did. Not just live together, the memories created
and shared, the lessons. So yeap, Alhamdulillah.
Al fatihah to my dearest wan- Darus Bin Abu.
