Monday, February 1, 2010

Soliloquy in Solitude

I've made a conscious decision that I need rest. I need to recharge. I need to find the inner peace that I have lost through death and grief. I need to control my tears from flowing at will. I need to heal my broken heart. I need to piece together my spirit. Hamka said a person with many needs is indeed poor. I am.

The pain of loss is indescribable. The hurt of insensitive words of comfort is far more excruciating. "She's in a much better place." "We have to redha." "That's life." These words don't stop the pain in my heart. My tears still well up and rain down my face. I still have her number on my hand phone and am not ready to delete her. Don't think for a moment that I enjoy my grief! It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

I am tired. I can't close my eyes without seeing her smiling face and hear her laughter. I can't dream without remembering the quiet moments of girl talks we often shared. We had so much in common. The love for music, art, dance, culture, beauty. She was indeed the best of us all. She was almost invisible during family gatherings because the obnoxious and crass relatives stole our attention from her. She was always smiling, non-judgmental, accepting, kind and soft-spoken. She was an angel and the radiance of her beautiful spirit blinded many of us from seeing her as who she really was. Her true purpose only became clear when her light died out. And now, in our darkness of despair and hurt, we see her legacy. Funny how appreciation can be squeezed out of a tomb stone.

Over the past few years, many tragedies and undue mishaps had taken place in my life and upon my own person. I've been taught never to question these so called tests. I accept Allah's will as it is. His will. I read somewhere that people will only change when they have no choice. That is true. Although Allah may have given mankind utter free will, we are still limited by our comfort zones and false beliefs about ourselves and what we think we can and cannot do. Man has walked on the moon. So, tell me why is it so difficult for me to make my heart stop missing Yati? Because the accident may have been a reason to end her life. But not enough to end my love for her.

Yati was indeed very fortunate to have a father who was very much involved in her life. He made sure she never needed for anything. It makes me smile to think that her funeral needs were very well organized and taken care of. The family home was huge enough to accommodate the throngs of people who came to say their final farewell to her. I can only dream of such endings. She was a beautiful angel. She deserved the best.

I count my blessings and utter constant prayer to my grandfather, Wan. Currently, he is struggling with many diseases that plague his frail body. His most precious asset is diminishing too, i.e; his mind. Dementia is indeed very cruel. No matter his condition today, I shall always see him as who he is to me. My 'grand' father. He stepped in and took over looking after the needs of my brothers and I simply because my own father wasn't able to. He may be considered a mean person by others but in my eyes, he is loving, caring and very protective of his loved ones. But you would have to be very close to him to know this soft side of him. He showed it to only a selected few. A father takes care of his family out of the sense of duty, responsibility and love. Wan took care of my brothers and I out of love and sincerity. We were never his responsibility. But he made us his. How can such a man be mean?

Oh, I agree that Wan is more than capable of slugging out a good punch in the gut without having to lift his arm or clench his fist. He's not one who minces his words. However, without his hurtful and challenging words to me, I don't think I'd be where I am today. I may not own much in terms of possessions or wealth. But what Wan taught me was more valuable. Integrity, being respectful and respectable, being charitable, being brave, being logical. There is a big difference between knowledge and wisdom. Same goes with regret and guilt. It's important not to confuse guilt with regret. Guilt results from doing something that we knew was wrong "at the time." Regret comes from later learning that we could have done something better. When we understand the difference between guilt and regret, we can move beyond blaming ourselves for what we didn't know or weren't able to do at the time.

Now, I need to recharge my spirit and focus on my uncle who is struggling to breath, just to continue to live. And although such is the condition he is in, he still has not lost his sense of humor. I have been blessed with so many angels and heroes in my life, may they come in forms of relations or friends, near or far. Only the good die young. I pray to Allah I will be spared from being left behind with the scums at the bottom of the barrel. Because without these insensitive and uncouth people, grief, pain, suffering or hurt would be bearable.

"Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break." - William Shakespeare