Dearest Mak

Dearest Mak,

Its been 15 days since you went home to Allah. I pray He has placed you among the righteous and pious. So many people prayed the same for you, Mak. So many people wept over your passing. So many people fell over each other to care for you. That just goes to show how much you were loved. I don't think its possible for me to ever stop loving you.

Before there were anyone else, there was just you and me. I remember fondly how you cared and loved me. Despite everything that happened in between the years, there was nothing that you did that made me feel unloved by you. 

From you I learned how to be a strong, independent woman who won't take shit from anyone. You taught me so many things but you didn't teach me how to live without you. I feel your presence in my life after your passing. Somehow, I also feel Wan's presence in my life too. 

Mak, you were there to witness how your brother treated me. When your brother shouted at you and I defended you, I was shouted at also. When you were taken away from under my care, they broke me. I kept remembering how you once told me about your dream where your sons planned to place you in a nursing home. I was so traumatised when I was told you were on your way to a nursing home with the hired caregiver. No one pacified me. And they did that on my birthday! I didn't even get to celebrate my birthday with you. I was so broken until I had suicidal thoughts and trauma. I thought of jumping in front of a speeding car to end all the turmoil I was experiencing. Jasmene was quick to take me to see my psychiatrist who then prescribed me some added medications to help me climb me from the darkness. Of course they don't really understand or empathise with what I was experiencing coz its not as obvious as cancer. Sometimes I wish I had cancer instead of major depressive disorder and complex PTSD.

My psychiatrist advised me to move out of the house urgently because he said I won't be able to heal for as long as I was living in a very toxic environment. So, Jasmene acted fast in securing a condo for us to move into. Coming up with the deposit for the condo was such an insurmountable challenge that I had to beg and borrow to just afford the moving. As a result, the house was left behind like a crime scene. 

When they took you away from me, everyone went silent and no one communicated with me, Mak. I didn't know they were gonna move you back into your own home. And honestly, I had no means to even pay for a cleaner to clean the house. The house was just too expensive for me to afford continuing living in it.

Mak, I have done everything that you wanted me to do: move into your home and take care of you as your health declined. When you were living with me and my family, we had a lot of laughs and plenty  of happy memories. Caring for you during COVID-19 was made easy by Allah when I was able to withdraw money from my old age fund with which I spent a significant amount repairing the house and buying your necessities. I don't have a single guilt nor regret because I know for a fact that I went above and beyond my capacity as your primary caregiver during the lockdown years.

Mak, I can hear your voice giving me the same old advice: "Do the best you can and if that's not good enough to others, tough luck!" I also hear Wan's voice saying what he said to me years ago while we were in London. He said, "You do good for the whole of your life and people won't remember it. But when you do one thing wrong, they will remember it for the rest of their lives." How poignant, isn't it? People are so quick to judge how I was responding to their manipulations and toxic abuse. People are quick to judge me for something they aren't willing to endure themselves. So I left.

With your passing, the tug of war that involved ugly dramas has ended. Along with it goes the bond that lasted as long as you did. I have ended it by withdrawing myself from that family. I wish I could've died with you, Mak. The pain of losing you is indescribable.

HAJJAH NOORAZAH BINTI AISHAH

30.09.1943 - 30.05.2022

AL FATIHAH

The Beauty in Being Broken

This quote explains why I have been in a creative rut lately. I guess my medication for depression and anxiety are very effective. Even my designs in Design Home game is suffering! This should be good news, right? Yes..... Then, why am I writing an entry today?

I glance out my office window that overlooks a scenic view Damansara Heights. A field of roofs glistening under the scorching hot sun. I draw a deep breath and think of my need to say something today. I know what it is about. I just need to compose it as eloquently as possible. You see, its not just important that people understand what I am trying to say. What's most important is that everyone understands me exactly as how I want them to understand. Therefore, the burden of explanation weighs heavily on my shoulders.

I stand up and walk out my office room. I need to think. I need something to do while I think. I head straight for a money plant that is swimming in a clear glass vase filled with mossy green water. I pick it up and head for the Ladies. My head entertaining words and phrases. Yes. I see words in my head but visuals in my eyes. That does not need to make sense to anyone else.

I am back at my desk and well aware that depression has been following me for quite a while now. I have successfully ignored it until last night. But today, it follows me to work. Logic tells me I cannot afford to have a depressive crash right now. I have too much work to get done. I have two subjects to teach this semester. I cannot afford to have depression right now. Somehow, it always comes at an ill opportune time. Which beckons the question, "Is there ever a good time for depression?"

Last night I watched Split 2016. James McAvoy was superb in his portrayal of Kevin and his 23 other personalities. I was intrigued by Dr. Fletcher and how she handled a client with DID. Marvelous! I learned while watching that movie. Something stayed with me. This:

"The broken are the more evolved. Rejoice!" Wow! I have never seen being broken as a reason for rejoicing before. And then I searched for other quotes about being broken. Here are some that illustrate what I am trying to articulate.

Yeah. What they said. That's what I want to write. But it has already been written by so many others. Others who got broken way before me. Others who shine and twinkle like stars in the dead darkness of night. The moon may have its beauty; but its the stars that twinkle and make minds wonder.

I am still unable to string my own words for this entry. I lean on words of others who have suffered long before I did, for much longer than I have. I salute their resolution. May theirs be mine soon.