This post is for my late grandfather, till the end of his days. I'll miss you Atok.
Define the meaning of a good man and all you need to do is get know this fine soul. A loving husband who lost his wife at an early age. A caring father who showered his children with love and concern without limits. Always advising, always understanding. Even to his grandchildren. A man with few words, soft-spoken, but words that are full of love and meaning. He never thought of himself, only to his loved ones. Such a humble man.
When I was young, I remembered you kept asking me if I've eaten, how is school, are you staying over today. The tiny things you do that showed your care and concern, like switching the fan to the lowest speed in the middle of the night because you thought we were cold, like how every now and then you will walk around the house to see if we're ok. Sometimes you just sat down to accompany me eat, while you talked about my aunts, uncles and how much I've grown. Never have you shared your pain, your story about loosing your wife, my grandmother. I understand, atok.
I'll miss your wonderful cooking. Your 'lauk chelok' with fried tuna was the best around and my favorite. Another one of my favorites, your 'sop kerang' was heavenly; gosh, I'll finish up a whole pot if I could! You spent time cleaning and tidying the house, cooking for the family, watering the plants and do all your prayers, without complain or anything. Never did I ever hear you nagged at my aunts and uncles, or your grandchildren. You never went out of the house unless you had to buy something or go to pray at the mosque. You'll spent time looking out the window alone standing there, in deep thought, which I'll never know.
Sometimes I wonder what are your thoughts, what are your stories, why you never share them with me? I never had the chance to ask you. I don't know why. I just couldn't ask you. Every hari raya I hardly see your tears, only for awhile and they're gone. How you kept them inside, I've no idea. You're such a simple person but yet you're so unique. I thought you didn't have much friends around but when I accompanied you to go to the mosque, its like everyone knows about you. I'm amazed by that.
At the hospital when I visited you, you looked weak, helpless. I'm not used to that sight. You're a strong person in my eyes. It just hurts me like hell seeing you like that, but I knew I had to accept it. Everyone will go through what you're going through. I hold back my tears as I watched my mum holding your hand and massaging your forehead. You turned to look at me. From your eyes, they looked as if they don't recognize me. As if to say "Who is this person?". I understand, you had dementia, but I just can't let the illness let you forget me just like that. I held your hand. I whispered in your ear saying its me, Sopi. That's how you've always called me. You turned, and no longer I see those unwelcomed eyes. Instead, I saw soft eyes, eyes that I always see when I went to visit you. I can't hold it. The tears are coming out. I let go and sat at the corner, holding my tears back. The whole time I was there, I just looked at you. The suffering that you're going through. The last hours of your life.
On 16th January, Tuesday, I stayed in camp. That night I couldn't sleep. I felt restless. I felt uncomfortable. Something just wasn't right. I toss and turn in bed till the next morning. Went for a run to clear my thoughts. I went to eat lunch but somehow the usually delicious nasi lemak wasn't appetizing. The fried chicken wings just didn't taste good. I went back to the bunk, still feeling restless. At exactly 1220hrs, I felt as if I lost something but I wasn't sure what. Played my PSP, after awhile, at 1330, my phone rang. Its my dad.
(Translated to English)
Dad: Pi, are you free now?
Me: I'm in camp. What's up? (I have a very bad feeling)
Dad: (In tears) Atok, he'd passed away.
Me:Wh..What?
Dad: (In tears) He just passed away. Please come quick.
I hanged up and jumped off my bed to get dressed. In 10 minutes, I was in the cab to SGH.
When I reached there, my dad, my uncles, Hassan, Azman, auntie Patimah was already there. My mum and siblings are already on their way to my late grandfather's place to prepare the place for the wake. His bed curtains were closed. The nurses are changing him to be transfered to the morgue. I didn't dare to look. I just stood near the door, holding my tears back and staring at the floor. I don't wanna see him. Not yet. My aunt said he left peacefully. His breathing slowed down till it stopped. He didn't have any illness at the time of death, a healthy man. I'm just happy he passed away peacefully. My Uncle Awie arrived and straight away went to the side of his bed. I caught a glimpse of my late grandfather's face and tears just flowed down. I left the ward and sat alone at the waiting area. I closed my eyes. I just sleep. I was awoken by my dad. Its time to leave. I help to carry the body from the morgue onto the funeral bus and went over to my late grandfather's place, where the wake will take place.
I helped carry the body to the kitchen to be bathed. Then, I stood by the kitchen entrance and watch as the Uztaz, my dad and uncles, bathed him. When I saw his lifeless body, the tears came back again. Just 2 days ago, he was weakly moving his hands to reach out to someone, as if he was scared to be left alone, as if he knew his time is almost up. I guess the saying is true; when someone is about to die, they'll hold on for as long as possible to see the one they loved so much before leaving them behind. The person right beside him just before he passed away, was his beloved daughter, Patimah. My only single aunt who, although busy with work and is a workaholic, never ever leave her father from her side. When they finished bathing him, they carried him to the living room to be dressed. I helped out, still holding back my tears. Then, it was time to say the final prayer/goodbye by all the family members. I just burst out crying. Can't control myself. I sprinkle the powder around his face twice, and kissed him on his forehead, as my tears dripped to his cheeks. Wiped my tears, and we continued on with the prayers.
While heading to the funeral, my cousin, Azri, cried uncontrollably beside me. I just closed my eyes and sleep. The whole time whenever I had the chance I just sleep. A short term relief from reality. We reached the cemetery and the body was buried straight away as it was nearing sundown. After all was done, prayers and everything, I stood behind looking at the grave. There he was, in his final resting place. After 96 years of living in this unforgiving world, he was finally at peace. May you rest in peace, Atok Matban. I'll never forget you. You're the greatest.
