Thank You Everyone

It is a difficult time for me.

The first for me to truly feel... to truly have to go through it.

I remember being at my grandfather's funeral but was too small to understand the weight of the situation. I still remember those moments vividly.

I remember looking at my Mom and all my aunts and uncles, one by one, giving their father the last rites, bidding their father farewell but I was too small to participate. I was a face in the crowd without a clue.

I remember everyone was crying or trying hard to control their sorrows, for Muslims must will and not hold the soul undecided to go meet its Maker but I was too little to understand. I was too little to know my grandfather and I do not recall him ever spoken to me once before when he was alive.

It was my first witness to the Muslim way of the last rites before burial...

I witnessed a few more during my growing-up years in the village. All those times, I was an onlooker without a clue of how it would have felt to loose a dear one after I saw my friends cried for their grandfathers, their grandmothers, their parents.

I went to a few funerals of the old folks from my kampong and I also avoided many as I got older. I do not know why I did that. Maybe I do not want to think about my own parents when it is their time.

I faced it head-on with Dad. It was tough. It was heartbreaking. I thought I would cry but not the whole day, not that many days... sleepless days.

I know it is something everyone has to go through. Death is part of life... the closer you are, the more painful it will be felt but I know that the time I had with my loved ones is well worth it.

To my dear friends, I sincerely thank you all for your kind words and prayers all this while.