Pillar of Strength

Mothers and their children are in a category all their own. There's no bond so strong in the entire world. No love so instantaneous and forgiving.” ~ Gail Tsukiyama

Last weekend my Mom had come over, having to attend an umrah course in KL. In a few weeks' time she will be going on another umrah trip, with her brother and his family. About the same time I'd be departing for my Portugal trip. Sigh. Since my Mom had gone on a Hajj and umrah trip before, I asked her why she needed to attend the course. "Oh, It's been years, I probably have forgotten some of the things", she retorted. 
This is probably one of those rare trips where she came to KL alone, by bus. Usually she'd come with my sis and niece. I picked her up at Hentian Serdang and sent her off to my uncle's place in BB Bangi. But not before bringing her to her favourite restaurant, Ayam Penyet Wong Solo.  I normally don't eat rice for dinner but maybe I was too happy to see her, I ordered extra dishes which we had difficulties finishing! 
The next day I brought her to Alamanda, because she said she wanted to buy a new pair of shoes. I obliged.  I found myself asking her what else she needed. She mentioned she needed some socks. And wanted to borrow one of my telekungs. Again I obliged, without hesitation. I felt elated! It  was one of those rare moments when I get to be with her alone and tend to all her needs. In the process, I  became the center of her attention, and vice-versa. It was a nice feeling! I haven't felt like this for a long time! 
But this feeling didn't last long. On Monday she had to head back to Segamat. I sent her to TBS at Bandar Tasik Selatan. She was impressed and at the same time a bit daunted by the sophistication of the terminal. Well, can't blame her. Where buses are concerned, memories of  the old, deplorable and packed Puduraya was all she had to compare with! 
I sent my Mom onto the bus, put her bag on the overhead compartment and kissed her goodbye. As I drove from TBS, it occurred to me that my Mom may not have that many years to live any more  Not that I'm asking God to cut short her life. On the contrary, I hope God is giving my Mom a long life. There's just too many things that I haven't done for her. Too many things I've yet to learn from her. And too many things that she wants me to achieve, but I haven't. Guilt started to engulf me. You hang in there, Mom, I thought. I just need a bit more time to sort out a few things in my life and make you proud of me. 
But then you never know. One thing I learn about life is that death can occur any time,  anywhere. I shuddered nervously, thinking, what if something happens to my Mom when she is performing her umrah? What if she dies there, just like my Grandma? Frankly, I can't imagine life without my Mom. I can't! She has always been there for me. She is my pillar of strength. She has always been there, forever ready with her unconditional love. It is this unconditional love that amazes me and leaves me baffled  at times. Yet, without this, I wouldn't have got to this stage in my life. Mom, please don't leave me yet, please. 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

One Kiddo's Opinion

Image
Sometimes the last thing learners need is for their preferred learning style to be affirmed. Agreeing to let people learn only in a way that feels comfortable and familiar can restrict seriously their chance for development. ~ Steven Brookfield Mork Mindy, do you know that you’re frowning a lot nowadays? Mindy Uh, really? You’re so observant, Mork. Mork Well, I have to be, don’t I? I’m your supposedly alter ego . Your animus , as Carl Jung put it. You wouldn’t be having those frowns if you’re not affected by something. Mindy Well, yeah. I am affected. By words. Mork (Chuckle) Don’t we all? Mindy Yeah, but if it’s by someone you least expect, how do you deal with it? Mork Okay, this is getting somewhere. What happened, dear? Mindy You know how I love my kids. And my teaching. In fact, I got my kids to thank for for lifting me up this New Year. Seeing them sitting in class, apprehensive yet cheerful really helped me to get out of my moroseness. Mork Okay. So, what is the problem, dear?
Read more

Genealogy 101

Image
Heirlooms we don't have in our family. But stories we've got. ~ Rose Cherin. I have always been interested in the genealogy of my family but since this has never been divulged by my immediate antecedents, I kept quiet and sort of forgot about it until recently, when my kids and I discussed a Malaysian play. In the past, occassionally, I would hear my Dad telling guests who came to our house that my GrandDad was originally from Bandung. Occassionally, too, I heard my Dad telling people that my GrandDad came from Surabaya. Well, to put it simply, let's just say my GrandDad came from Indonesia. I am not sure whether I heard wrongly or my Dad heard wrongly. I am also not sure whether he's a Javanese or Sundanese. My Dad's family said that he was a Javanese but then this cannot be ascertained since the Malaysian concept of a Javanese has been: anyone who comes from Indonesia. Whereas to Indonesians, a Javanese is anyone who comes from the Java Island. Indonesia does n
Read more

Driving Home

Image
Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to. ~John Ed Pearce Everytime I drive home from my place (Bangi) to Johor (Mom’s place), my mom or sis would be calling, asking where I'd reached. This ritual would start even when I’m still at home and if I were, they’d be asking me when I’d leave. When I said I’d leave in the morning, my mom would take it to literally mean around 8. But being the relax-and-no-need-to-rush person that I am, morning could be anytime between 8 -12. 10-12, to be more exact. Hehe. I’ve gotten used to this ritual for years. Those calls mean quite a number of things to me. One, I feel like they really miss me. Two, they can’t wait to see me. Three, I feel like I’m really wanted. And four, I feel like I’m important to them. Clearly, I enjoy this ritual and look forward to it every time I drive home. I’d be somersaulting inside when I get calls from my mom or sis. Hehe. This ritual stopped, however, the second last time I dr
Read more