Word Sunday : Pristine

I have just finished reading "the five people you meet in heaven - Mitch Albom". I know I know its' an old story already. And nearly everyone has read it. Dah ada movie pulak tu.

It is more than natural that I thought of my mum all the way reading the book. Unlike many other good daughters in the world, I only learnt that my mum has dreams and likes after her death. I also got to know she has fears and hopes. That she was not just a mother. She was a person.

Sometime before her death, as narrated by my Mak Tam, she often dreamt of her mum, my late nenek. My nenek gestured my mum to come and follow her. Go to her world that she is in now. My mum woke up probably scared. She'd probably cried. I don't know. But she told my Mak Tam, she didn't want to go. Not yet. There are things she has not done yet. Unfinished business. (Actually when it comes to death, I don't think any thing is ever finished. There are always reason that we would ask given a choice to delay it unless under torture)

I find it chilling when I hear this story. Partly because of my late nenek kept coming in her dreams like a bad premonition. But also, I do wonder whether I am one of the unfinished business. I settled my hard feeling sometime last year which I have said often enough, I count my lucky stars for it.

You know I never did call her. When I want to tell my parents something, I called my dad instead. Or I ask Haziq to make the call for me. I regret that. Ever so often the wound throbs back in my heart and squeeze it tight as I sobbed to myself. However, I will always remember the last call I actually made to her. On purpose. I was already here in Qatar. My kids were still sleeping. I had her all for myself. No passing on the phone when we run out of subject.

I talked to her about the things that I wanted her to post over. All sterile subjects. Finally I made myself ask how she was. Not just because it is a standard thing to ask someone. But really how are you Ibu. She said sakit sikit-sikit je. Then I told her about my plans for my parents to come visit me for the next raya. That we bought an 8-seater car so we could bring them everywhere comfortably. That Mecca is near. That she should stay longer here. It was probably not as mother-daughter conversation that one should have, but I thought it was already beautiful as it was. I didn't ask whether she missed me and the kids though. Because it is just not the way we do things.

However, I have lifted the heavy veil , finally. It should be easier after that.

Only there were no other calls after. She was always in the bed each time I call or YM.

I have always wondered where did my pristine glass of youth go to? How did it got lost? Smeared by finger prints of adulthood? Cracked and jagged.

Well what are you waiting for? Go go call your mum. Make your day for your old life.