Too Late for Regrets...
I have just gone to see my grandad. He was very cold. Called him as usual, but that didn't even garner a nod. Hmmm. My son went up to him and said hello, etc. but it he only allowed him to hold his finger for a little while. Perhaps it is because I haven't gone to see him in a while - rather, I didn't stay long enough the last time I dropped by. Well of course, he's not always like that... but he does get like that pretty often.
Such a vast difference as compared to my grandma on my dad's side. Sigh. She would always be smiles, whether or not I had only just seen her or it had been months since I last saw her.
Makes me value her even more - although it is too late now.
Ah Ma passed away on the 2nd of August 2008. She had been staying at a nursing home for about 5 months. I had been to see her perhaps only 3 times in the home? Sigh. I feel such great remorse and regret for not having made the effort to see her more often. No use crying over spilt milk, they say. How apt. Sigh.
She was one who loved to chit chat. She would go on and on about days long gone, and about many other stories that would suddenly come to her mind. She would sometimes reprimand me for not knowing certain words in Cantonese that she used.
She didn't like the taste of sesame seed oil. She hates food with a fishy smell.
She used to take us on those public buses to "lok po' (Cantonese for going down town) i.e. Sungei Wang and treat us to KFC (and later some stationery from a nearby shop). Oh, that was a really long time ago, maybe 20 years back? Wow, that IS a long time. I mentioned this to her before she died, but she can't remember, she said.
She would fry rice, plate by plate - with huge prawns. Fried rice is only yummy if cooked plate by plate, she said. She made me write down the names of some herbs to boil. Oh, she would most probably scold me for having forgotten the names now.
She used to live in this flat in Jalan Tung Shin before she moved in with my aunt. I vaguely remember how it is like - we had to walk up a couple of flight of stairs to get to the flat, and from the door, another flight to the living room. There was a long corridor we had to walk through just to get to the kitchen or the bathroom - this is where we would also be facing the neighbour. There were two rooms in the front, with a pretty large living room where the tv was, where my late grandad (her husband who died many many years ago...) would sit in this chair watching tv. I remember being absolutely terrified of him, and never really knew him at my young age.
I did go and see her before she got so ill. A few times at my aunt's place -before I got married, after, and after I had my son. When I was at work, she would give me phone calls and would chit chat for many minutes. Sometimes she would cry over the phone.
It's amazing how a woman her age (she was about 90) would still look out for her 3 children - although they are old enough to look after themselves, and perhaps look after her in return.
She came over to our house a couple of times - but was too tired/sick to do so after those times.
There is just so much about her that I remember - bits and pieces, here and there.
However, there is this one thing that I remember of her - which adds a truck load of regret onto what I am already feeling. And it is this.
Of all the relatives and their reaction towards me reverting to Islaam, she was the most impartial; the least judgemental. Actually, she didn't judge me at all. Come to think of it, she was actually extremely accepting of my decision to accept Islaam. She did ask me why, and I did explain, and that was it. It was an honest question from her side, with no preconcieved ideas attached.
And when I decided to don the hijaab (Muslim dressing - yes, including the headscarve and all), she actually said I looked nice and pretty. Of course, I only wear the hijaab as submission to Allaah's commands and not to look good; but her comment was uplifting as other relatives struggled to accept how I chose to look.
She was also so nice to my husband, and tried her very best to make him feel comfortable by trying to speak to him in his mother tongue. She would take his hand and shake it and ask him, "How are you?" almost every time they met. But before that, she would quickly pull me aside and ask me, "What's your husband's name again?"
Now, as I think back on those times she had been simply, herself - I feel utmost regret for not getting to know her better, and to keep her company in her times of loneliness and old age. She just wanted someone to listen to her, to look out for her a bit, and just basically, to be with her - even for a few moments.
It is too late now. And that regret is still nagging at me inside.
But I am grateful though, for the fact that I can seek forgiveness from the only One who can forgive - God Almighty, Allaah. I pray that He forgives me and that I do not repeat this that has caused me such regret...
Come to think of it... looking at my grandad, perhaps it is because he has many children to come and visit and look out for him - so much so that it becomes a norm, and he can get upset if things don't go his way with regards to their visits, etc.
But with my grandma, I guess she never really did have people visit her so often, that when anyone does visit her - she treasures every moment.
Maybe, just maybe.
Such a vast difference as compared to my grandma on my dad's side. Sigh. She would always be smiles, whether or not I had only just seen her or it had been months since I last saw her.
Makes me value her even more - although it is too late now.
Ah Ma passed away on the 2nd of August 2008. She had been staying at a nursing home for about 5 months. I had been to see her perhaps only 3 times in the home? Sigh. I feel such great remorse and regret for not having made the effort to see her more often. No use crying over spilt milk, they say. How apt. Sigh.
She was one who loved to chit chat. She would go on and on about days long gone, and about many other stories that would suddenly come to her mind. She would sometimes reprimand me for not knowing certain words in Cantonese that she used.
She didn't like the taste of sesame seed oil. She hates food with a fishy smell.
She used to take us on those public buses to "lok po' (Cantonese for going down town) i.e. Sungei Wang and treat us to KFC (and later some stationery from a nearby shop). Oh, that was a really long time ago, maybe 20 years back? Wow, that IS a long time. I mentioned this to her before she died, but she can't remember, she said.
She would fry rice, plate by plate - with huge prawns. Fried rice is only yummy if cooked plate by plate, she said. She made me write down the names of some herbs to boil. Oh, she would most probably scold me for having forgotten the names now.
She used to live in this flat in Jalan Tung Shin before she moved in with my aunt. I vaguely remember how it is like - we had to walk up a couple of flight of stairs to get to the flat, and from the door, another flight to the living room. There was a long corridor we had to walk through just to get to the kitchen or the bathroom - this is where we would also be facing the neighbour. There were two rooms in the front, with a pretty large living room where the tv was, where my late grandad (her husband who died many many years ago...) would sit in this chair watching tv. I remember being absolutely terrified of him, and never really knew him at my young age.
I did go and see her before she got so ill. A few times at my aunt's place -before I got married, after, and after I had my son. When I was at work, she would give me phone calls and would chit chat for many minutes. Sometimes she would cry over the phone.
It's amazing how a woman her age (she was about 90) would still look out for her 3 children - although they are old enough to look after themselves, and perhaps look after her in return.
She came over to our house a couple of times - but was too tired/sick to do so after those times.
There is just so much about her that I remember - bits and pieces, here and there.
However, there is this one thing that I remember of her - which adds a truck load of regret onto what I am already feeling. And it is this.
Of all the relatives and their reaction towards me reverting to Islaam, she was the most impartial; the least judgemental. Actually, she didn't judge me at all. Come to think of it, she was actually extremely accepting of my decision to accept Islaam. She did ask me why, and I did explain, and that was it. It was an honest question from her side, with no preconcieved ideas attached.
And when I decided to don the hijaab (Muslim dressing - yes, including the headscarve and all), she actually said I looked nice and pretty. Of course, I only wear the hijaab as submission to Allaah's commands and not to look good; but her comment was uplifting as other relatives struggled to accept how I chose to look.
She was also so nice to my husband, and tried her very best to make him feel comfortable by trying to speak to him in his mother tongue. She would take his hand and shake it and ask him, "How are you?" almost every time they met. But before that, she would quickly pull me aside and ask me, "What's your husband's name again?"
Now, as I think back on those times she had been simply, herself - I feel utmost regret for not getting to know her better, and to keep her company in her times of loneliness and old age. She just wanted someone to listen to her, to look out for her a bit, and just basically, to be with her - even for a few moments.
It is too late now. And that regret is still nagging at me inside.
But I am grateful though, for the fact that I can seek forgiveness from the only One who can forgive - God Almighty, Allaah. I pray that He forgives me and that I do not repeat this that has caused me such regret...
Come to think of it... looking at my grandad, perhaps it is because he has many children to come and visit and look out for him - so much so that it becomes a norm, and he can get upset if things don't go his way with regards to their visits, etc.
But with my grandma, I guess she never really did have people visit her so often, that when anyone does visit her - she treasures every moment.
Maybe, just maybe.
posted by Rayhana at 8/21/2008 01:59:00 PM
3 Comments:
soo sad... i didn't even visit her... sigh... i can never forget the day we went to the home to claim her body... what i saw still haunts me...
yes rayhana, when we have regret over something and can't turn back the time, we can always seek forgiveness and strength fromthe Almighty.
It's been a long time, I saw your link in haarizmommy blog.
salam alaikoum dear sister, and thank you for the nice comment on my blog. your thoughts about your grandma's death touch me, I feel the same for my grandma (she also accepts me and my husband entirely) and alhamdulillah mine is still alive... but I am living far away from her.
I wish you relief and an accepted taubah', inchaallah. and I am looking forward for more posts on your blog!! xxx
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