Thinking (and thanking) aloud

I make a conscious effort to try and make myself happy these days (these days = widowhood). Perhaps more accurately, I make an extra effort to NOT make myself miserable. Yup, that's more like it.

Truth is, it's not that I need to be brimming with happiness ~ I just don't want to be un-happy. And sad. More so, I don't want to be ungrateful.

And how do I do that? By being contented with His blessings.

“Part of the happiness of a son of Adam consists in his pleasure with what Allah has decreed for him, part of the misery of the son of Adam consists in his abandonment of asking God's blessing and part of the misery of the son of Adam consists in his displeasure with what Allah has decreed for him.”

Alhamdulillah, I am thankful to Him for all the provisions He has given me. Having said that, as a weak human being that I am, I must admit that it is sometimes a challenge to be fully contented with what I have been bestowed with ~ Astaghfirulahalazim! Nevertheless, patience and ridha is a virtue I have continously learn to embrace with each passing day.

And how else could I have come to learn patience and ridha but through His grace?

!الله أكبر

The road ahead (part II) : Ramblings

I had just finished reading The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. Bought the book this morning and couldn’t put it down. The book was written by Randy Pausch (book published in April this year and Pausch succumbed to cancer three months later), a computer science professor at Carnegie Mellon University who had pancreatic cancer.

The book was written together with a co-author after his talk “Really Achieving your Childhood Dreams”. The talk, which Pausch gave in September last year was modeled after a series of lectures retiring professors needed to give to “impart knowledge and wisdom to the world if you knew it was your last chance". Pausch gave the talk a month after receiving prognosis that the pancreatic cancer with which he had been diagnosed a year earlier was terminal.

I couldn’t put the book down because the book wasn’t about dying. It was about LIVING. What was most attractive about the book to me was his optimistic ways in looking at life. Instead of feeling sorry for himself (which is so easy to do and understandably so), he found a way to recollect his life and sum it up in a lecture and later in a book).

“I won’t be around to guide my kids through their childhood into adulthood and hopefully the book will do that on my behalf,” he said. The book talks about Pausch’s professional and personal experiences laced with anecdotes and analogies in life (I am a sucker for that!)

Ok, enough about the book (those interested can surely get a copy themselves – no need for me to give a full summary here!).

But the book got me seriously thinking: how will I guide my girls through life – from childhood, into adulthood. How do I prepare my children to face the uncertainties in life. How I raise them will surely shape their perspective on life – am I doing it right?? Will I be able to give them the opportunities they deserve and will they be proud and thankful for the decisions I helped made for them??

I guess these are the questions that run through the thoughts of every parent out there. Every word uttered, every action we do will leave a trace in their lives (hopefully the positive words and actions will imprint a significant mark and the negative ones will not blemish them so much).

The book also made me think of ways to help my girls think outside the ordinary to get an added edge in life. “Pancakes doesn’t always have to be round,” said Pausch in his book. Ok, I must confess that as much as I’d like to think that I am a person open to ideas and ideals, I am deep down a conservative kind of gal, being raised by old school parents. I play safe. I don’t seek adventure that much (though I don’t always play by the rules).

(to be continued…)

On another note

I tried to ignore it, but I just have to write it down here, laa....

When I mentioned on this blog that I am moving on, it had created a deformed perspective on what I had meant to some.

Some took my statement of 'moving on' as a declaration of my readiness to be 'back in the saddle again'... oh, you know what I mean.

I just want to make it extremely clear that no other words or gesture would hurt or insult me more than those 'friendly' hints about getting a new... oh, I can't even say it on here... it makes me want to throw up!!

I AM moving on.... with two very important people in my life -- my girls. End of story.

The road ahead

“Widowhood is a state of being and coping in the beginning. Then, if you're lucky and smart, it fades into another facet of life.”

- Sally Swift -

I think I have reached a stage in my widowhood where I have totally accepted the realities of being a widow (which includes raising my kids alone without their father, being the sole bread-winner, sending the car to the mechanics for a service myself, doing my own taxes, lifting the heavy groceries from the supermarket alone etc).

If I may say so, I think I dah betul-betul redha. No more asking myself ‘what if’ questions (honestly, still do sometimes but quickly ignore the thought) and no more pondering long and hard about 'the life’ I will never get to live (will quickly snap myself out of it if the mind ever wonders ‘there’). I am done feeling sorry for myself!!

Sure, being a woman that I am (and a Scorpio too!! – deeply emotional and emotionally complex), I have my P-M-Sy days where I feel that the whole world is against me, but I tell myself, I have the same sort of feelings even before I was widowed, so live with it!!

I am… venturing into another facet of life. Yup, just now. After being a widow for 590 days.

I am… moving on.

God, help me.

On the tracks of life...

It is so easy to lose track when you're travelling on the road of life.

For a person whose imaan is not that strong like me, it is very easy for the internal demons to take over the driver's seat, steering me away from being focused in keeping my faith strong and solid. Forgive me God, for not having enough trust in you to know that YOU know what's best for me. Forgive me God, for I am simply h-u-m-a-n, a weak creature of yours.

“…and it may be that you dislike a thing which is good for you and that you like a thing which is bad for you. Allah knows but you do not know.”

(Surah Baqarah: 216)

I have learnt that in our journey of life, it is important to take a few breaks along the way, not unlike the rest stops we make along the highway during a long journey.

Travelling non-stop on the highway will only tire the body, just as travelling hastily on the tracks of life does to our soul.

I have just came back from a short trip with family, visiting extended families and taking a break from it all.

Being with family and seeing the smiles on my children's faces are the sort of blessings God has generously bestowed upon me and for that I am deeply thankful.

You can say that I am currently getting out of my 'manic-depressive' state I was in some weeks ago (the challenge will be in keeping the positive pace going). And I am hopeful that the nur of the coming Ramadhan will bring the much-needed tranquility I so need in this current phase of my life.

To all you out there who have made the time to listen (read) to what I have to say (whine), thank you for being a friend. I am truly blessed. Alhamdulillah.

My emotional turbulence

"Life is a rollercoaster... just gotta ride it", so says Ronan Keating. Now, who can deny it, right?

It's just that I wish I could be off that roller coaster ride for now. Enough madness and mayhem. Can I go for the safe and sound teacup ride, now? Please... pretty, pretty pleaseeee???

It's been a crazy week. I had to work through the weekend. It doesn't help that I'm feeling a little (lot!) under the weather now (plus body ache everywhere - a sure sign of aging). Came home from KK tonight to find my girls not exactly in the pink of health either. Must be the weather (what else is there to blame on?) Hope all three of us get better soon. Insyallah, we'll be off to Jakarta on Tuesday for a 'lil vacation and bonding. My mom will be with us, too. The truth is, I am not exacty thrilled at the prospect of having to unpack and pack my suitcase again. I am tired. I am sick. I need my baby...

I have been missing him so much these last couple of days. More than ever. Outside my consciousness, I find tears rolling down my cheeks at the most inappropriate times!! While ordering lunch, buying a train ticket or talking on the phone with the boss... I just lost it!!

As usual, at times like these, the crazy me sent him text messages on his now-defunct mobile number -- I miss you or I just had dinner with so and so or I'm boarding the plane now...

The tears rolled down again the moment my plane landed and I turned on my mobile. No more "welcome home, yayang" text messages from him.

In the taxi on the way to the airport this evening, Michael Buble's Home was on. Apa lagi... meleleh la...

I so want to be home again... back home in his arms...

Home
Michael Buble

Another summer day
has come and gone away
In Paris or Rome...
but I wanna go home...mmm home

I may be surrounded by a million people
I still feel all alone
just wanna go home...I miss you, you know

And I've been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you,
Each one a line or two
I'm fine baby, how are you?
I would send them but I know that it's just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that...

Another aeroplane, another sunny place,
I'm lucky I know
but I wanna go home
I got to go home

Let me go home
I'm just too far from where you are
I wanna come home

And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life
It's like I just stepped outside
when everything was going right

And I know just why you could not come along with me
This was not your dream but you always believed in me...

Another winter day
Has come and gone away
in either Paris or Rome
...and I wanna go home

Let me go home
And I'm surrounded by
A million people
I still feel alone
Let me go home...I miss you , you know

Let me go home
I've had my run baby, I'm done
I gotta go home
Let me go home...

it'll all be alright...
I'll be home tonight
I'm coming back home

This heart of mine...

(a question and prayer posed to self and for self)

They say time heals all wounds but why am I still bleeding?

I am NOT strong... and I am currently feeling sooooooo weak and helpless. I am losing it. This brittle heart of mine sure feels like its going to rupture anytime soon.

I don't want to bleed, don't want to feel...

Dear Allah, please make my heart solid and my spirit strong... Ameen.

الحمد لله

In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful.

الحمد لله , الحمد لله , الحمد لله

I am back in this space again after a short hiatus. A short hiatus, indeed. It felt short. Very, very short. Yet at the same time the experience felt a world away.

I have been... sad (again!!!???) nothing new, huh? Please, please... you may move on to another blog now... such stale news this is...

Unfortunately, yes I have been. Sad that is. And somewhat still is. One, for having to leave the holy land. And two -- that's just the way I am. Sob... sob... I can be so pathetic, I irritate me!!!

Having said that (being sad and all), I can not go on typing without saying that I am forever indebted to HIM, the Most Merciful, The Most Compassionate, The Bestower, The Most Knowing, The Protector, The Great Forgiver, The All-Knowing, The Just... The ONE for all his bounties. Alhamdulillah... for everything...

Hmmmm... now whining about my sad, sad life really sounds pathetic!!! And ungrateful!!! So, I shall not!!!

Funny, how I am feeling a little better now. Alhamdulillah!!! Praise be upon HIM!!! It's HIS M-A-G-I-C!!! Thank, you God!

I am just babbling with no real direction here! Forgive me, but it's four-something in the morning and I have been up since the last couple of hours... crying! But not anymore!!! Alhamdulillah...

The messed-up emotions could possibly be due to the medications I took to stop my period temporarily. Hormonal imbalance, yes... I'd like to think so. The red alert came gushing the moment I stepped off the plane Tues night and just a few minutes ago, right after I started typing this entry, I had a severe stomach cramp - went to the loo and gosh!!! if I was a sexually-active female, I'd think that I had a really early stage of miscarriage looking at the discharge I had!!! It's scary, ok???

And because of my menstruation, I have not been able to perform my solah, and that added to my sadness too. It makes me miss being there in the Al-Haram and Masjidul Nabawi even more. But I'll be back there, soon. I promise. Insya-Allah...

I must say that I am happy to be back home, to see my girls especially. I had started to really miss them the very last few days I was there. I should've brought them along with me. They would love it there! Soon, very very soon, ok girls? We'll go there together, insya-Allah...

(Stomach cramp again... ouch!)

Bye, for now...

Higglytown Heroes remind me of...

The life I had once upon a time...

Once upon a time, I was a homemaker for two years when I took a break from work to complete my Master's.

Once upon a time, my daily routine included getting the kids ready for school and my best friend ready for work in the morning.

Once upon a time, I'd have a goodbye kiss planted on my lips before my best friend leaves for work in the morning.

Once upon a time, the highlight of my day would be waiting for my best friend to come home from work each night so we'd spend the time talking about our day's hi's and lo's.

Once upon a time.

My kids don't watch the Playhouse Disney channel anymore as they've obviously outgrown it. Somehow, it was on our TV sometime over the weekend. Funny how a simple TV show could evoke such memories for me.

I remember watching the show everyday with Misha after I'd fetch her from kindy at 11.30am. We'd watch the show together while she drinks her milk and before I go out again to fetch Maira from school.

I cherish those years of my life where everything was 'perfect'. But I know no matter how much I 'ache' for those moments to be 'alive' again, I have to be thankful to Allah for everything. For today. For now. For him.

Still, I must admit that I need to remind myself everyday that 'it is for the best' and that 'Allah knows better'.

I pray for strength, Ya Allah...

The Rose

by Better Midler

Some say love, it is a river
that drowns the tender reed...

Some say love, it is a razor
that leaves your soul to bleed...

Some say love, it is a hunger,
an endless aching need...

I say love, it is a flower,
and you it's only seed...

It's the heart afraid of breaking,
that never learns to dance...

It's the dream afraid of waking,
that never takes the chance...

It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give...

and the soul afraid of dyin'
that never learns to live...

When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been to long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong...

Just remember in the winter
far beneath the winter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose...

I first heard this song in my roomate's car, way back in college some 15 years ago. Listening to it always leaves me with a tinge of sadness. Still, I've always loved this song. A moving song laced with reflections on life. And of hope.

Note to self: Berjalanlah Tanpa Henti...

Melawan Kesepian

Siti Nurhaliza

Apapun yang terjadi

Berjalanlah tanpa henti

Air mata yang tertahan

Waktu untuk di jatuhkan

Nanti kita kan tahu

Betapa bijaknya hidup

Sepahit apapun ini

Pelajaran yang berarti

Semoga kepergianmu

Tak akan merubah apapun

Semoga bisa kulawan

Kesepianku...

Apa pun yang terjadi

Berjalanlah tanpa henti...

Tosai reminds me of...

Maira wanted to have some roti canai after the girls' C0mputert0ts class on Sunday and off we went to a mamak restaurant.

I ordered tosai for myself. Misha and my friend Annie who was with us ordered the same thing too.

While chatting and waiting for our food, the little drizzle turned into heavy rain. A little while later, our food came.

In the same exact moment that the first bite of tosai lusciously dabbed in coconut chutney enters my mouth, a certain person came into my mind -- my late mother in-law, Mak.

In that split second, I had a lump in my throat.

There and then, I suddenly remembered that the last time I had tosai was in Penang when we visited her in August last year. I had some work to do in Penang and took the kids and maid to see her.

I remember the last night we were there, we had supper at a mamak restaurant near her place and of course, she had her favourite tosai. Not one, but two!

Mak was a very special woman. And strong, too.

Mak was widowed at the age of 36 when her husband died of a stroke at the age of 42.

Left with six children ranging from the age of 17 to 2, Mak was now alone and had to fend for herself, her kids and an elderly mother. Being an only child, she did not have any siblings to turn to either.

I am still in awe everytime I try to imagine how she managed everything -- being uneducated, unstreetwise and all.

But she did.

You name it, she did it. Jual kuih, jahit baju etc. After awhile she finally landed herself a stabil job as a general worker in a university in that island state. She was now a gomen employee with medical and pension benefits.

Mak never remarried, though she was very much a looker (anak mami!) and had many suitors.

"Mak takut kalau mak kawin nanti anak-anak tak dapat kasih sayang", she once said. And with remarrying, there goes her late hubby's pension (I don't know bout now, but those days if a woman remarries, she can say goodbye to her late spouse's pension -- how unfair!)

She continued to work until retirement age, though all of her children (except for Zamri who was in uni) had already made it on their own. She just didn't want to be dependent on her kids, "Mak tak mau anak-anak susah, depa pun dah ada tanggungjawab masing-masing," she would say.

Not only did she bury her husband, she also buried her fifth child in 1985 when Achik Lan was killed in a motocycle accident.

And last year, she buried yet another son, her anak manja, Zamri, my hubby (I still find it weird to call him my 'late' husband).

You could say she's been through it all.

She also saw three of her kids graduate from foreign universities and even stayed for two years in the US when my sis-in-law did her PhD in the early nineties.

Mak passed away on 27 November last year, just 9 months after her youngest son's passing. And just 10 days after she left our home to go back to Penang.

The night before she went back, she told me, "Mak ni dah tua... dah tak larat nak duduk lama-lama di KL. Mak tak saaaabaaaaaq nak balik Penang...".

Mak left us dengan mata tertutup rapat. And rezeki dia, she got to be buried beside her husband after 35 years.

Tosai, among many other things, would always remind me of Mak.

P.S. I Love You continued...

I am writing this entry following a comment made by LadyDi on this book, which I had earlier wrote about in this blog. Read my old entry here.

Di, the book was a big dissapointment for me! That's why I didn't make any follow-up entries on it. Felt it wasn't worth blogging about heheh.

The first page was hard for me as the writer went about describing her late other half i.e no longer able to run her fingers thru his hair etc. That memang sedih! I cried and put the book down sebab tak tahan.

Picked it up again on another occasion and read about 2 or 3 more chapters je... got bored. I was not amused. It was about a woman (whose personality is a bit childish, I felt) who is so lost. It was pathetic. You know, the usual B-movie scene on made-for-tv movies where a friend makes a surprise visit to a newly-widowed woman and found her house in a mess, soiled dishes everywhere in the kitchen, empty fridge etc.

I bought the book thinking that by reading it, I could connect to someone who was recently widowed. To see if indeed what I was going through is what other young widows out there are experiencing as well. I thought I could gain some strength from the book.

I was so wrong.

Well, honestly I didn't finish reading the book, so with due respect, this is just my personal comments on the first, perhaps 1/3 of the book.

I know why I didn't enjoy the book -- I had such wrong expectations of it. I had turned to the wrong literature for comfort.

I then opened my copy of the meanings and interpretation of the holy Quran. I found my answers there.

This and that...

I barely had anything done in the office today. First half of the day was spent moving my stuff to our temporary office two floors down. This is to make way for the renovation works at our current place.

We'll be at this 'transit' office for about a month before moving back to our renovated space. I also had to attend an internal meeting in the morning.

Second half of the day was spent attending another meeting in Cyberjaya, together with my boss and our consultants. It was such a hectic day that I didn't have time for lunch. Thanks to Z who treated us drinks after the meeting. I had more than just coffee, to make up for lunch.

Driving home, Maira called to ask me if I was going to pick up her swimming suit which I had sent to the shop yesterday to have the zipper fixed (the zipper got spoilt last week when her friend helped her zip up for swimming lessons). Thank God she called, coz I was ready to just drive straight home. Totally forgot that I had to pick it up for her lessons tomorrow.

Came home to Misha's "Mommy, I need to bring potato stamps for art tomorrow". Ok. So, this was what I managed to carve out of the potatoes. Not so imaginative, eh? Mommy dah tak de idea, la Misha...

While helping them with homework, they realised that both of them need to bring water colours to school for art class tomorrow and there's only one set at home (which puzzles me coz' I distinctly remembered getting one each early in the year). And Maira kept saying she needed to bring Manila card as well. Why lah only tell me now?

So off I went after Isya' to the nearest store to get a set of water colour and some Manila cards.

Now here is the best part of the day! It was quite a long queue at the express counter (I had like 5 items) and so were the other four people in front of me, all anxious to pay and get going as it was already past 9. Suddenly, here comes an old auntie, in her 70s probably, with a Colgate toothpaste in her hand who 'potong queue' in front of the guy before me.

I had hoped the guy wouldn't get mad at the old lady (she was really old) as she is, after all a 'warga emas' and probably really badly needed to get that toothpaste at that certain hour heheh! Thank God he didn't say a word.

Next thing I know, the auntie was saying terima kasih, terima kasih and touching the guy's arms and appearing to be so grateful. She even had some tears in her eyes and kept on saying something else in Mandarin while touching the guy until he got embarrased.

Wanna know why? The toothpaste cost her RM5.20 and she only brought with her RM5! And so, upon hearing from the cashier that the old lady is short of 20 sen, the guy took out 20 sen from his pocket and paid the balance.

The thing was, she was so so grateful at this young Malay chap -- seriously, her eyes were gleaming. And the guy tertunduk malu-malu... It was like watching a scene from one of Yasmin Ahmad's ads. So sweeeett... so muhibbah! Just wish I had my camera with me!

I tell you, seeing that made me feel alive. Made me realise there's still compassion and gratitute amongst people out there.

الحمد لله

It's 4 something in the morning and I can't go back to sleep. Woke up at quarter to 4 to use the loo. Am still having the cold. Had wished the flu medicine could help me get a good night's rest. Have a full-day event later in the day...

This is not a grumble.

Instead, while lying in bed trying to go back to sleep, I only have praises for Allah -- Alhamdulillah... for taking good care of me and my girls. Alhamdulillah... for being there for me in times of need. Alhamdulillah... for his countless blessings. Alhamdulillah... for choosing me to test.

Dear God (I know you're listening) -- due to your test, my faith in you have never been stronger. I know you are looking after me. I know you love me... and this test only proves that you want me to be a far more superior servant of yours than I ever was before.

Praise be with You!

The tahlil

We had a tahlil at my mom's last night for our loved ones who have gone before us. May Allah bless their souls and I hope, insya-Allah, they will benefit from our prayers and du'as. Amiin.

Pak M gave a heartrending opening before leading the tahlil. He reminded us of our time left in this material world. Of our unfulfilled duties to the Almighty. Of our life after our time on earth has expired.

Life is fragile.

A few elderly men in our mosque congregation also came for the tahlil. Pak Haji K, my mom's backdoor neighbour must be the eldest surviving man in the congregation. He walked in the house with his trusted tongkat (walking stick). I'm pretty sure he is in his early 80's. It was nice, but at the same time melancholic to see familiar faces whom I've known for about 30 years now.

Thanks to Allah, we are still here serving our time. May we use it wisely in preparation for our final destination.

Bed buddies

I sleep on a crammed bed most nights. Since their daddy passed on a year ago, the girls have been bunking in with me most nights of the week. It was a natural thing to do the first few nights he was gone. Nights became weeks, weeks became months and now a year has gone (it will be a year on Thursday).

The two of them used to sleep in their own bedroom all by themselves. Even when their daddy would go outstation for work, they'd still sleep by themselves.

Somehow, they have gotten used to sleeping with me. I think they now see it as their right, and not a privilege. Occasionally, I will tell them that I needed the whole bed to myself as "mommy have a very important meeting tomorrow and I need to have a good rest", and they'll go sleep in their room. Other times, they'll have cousins staying overnight and then I'll have my room to myself. Some weekend nights I'd convinced them to "sleep in your own room tonight and I promise we'll do something fun tomorrow".

I must tell you that sleeping with a 7 and 9-year-old in a Queen size bed is not exactly very comfy. They do take up space! Many a time I'd wake up with a sore neck or a backache from having to accomodate my 2 not-so-little bed guests!

But I'm not complaining.

I'm thinking in 11 years time, when Misha goes to college, I'd have an empty nest and no one to fight over a pillow with.

Tea @ Kak D's

Went to my sis-in-law's house for an early tea today. It was a planned visit as I wanted to pass a handphone which I had gotten for free to my nephew Asy who celebrated his 16th birthday on 14 Feb. Kak D and hubby, as well as daughter and another son was at home. Apparently Asy had gone off on a date with his girlfriend -- kids these days!

Caught up with Kak D on family happenings. Kak D is Zamri's third eldest sibling and second eldest sister. I would say that Zamri was closest to Kak D compared to his other siblings. Kak D was his first family member whom I met when we first dated. Zamri also stayed with Kak D's family for almost a year when he moved to KL, before we got married.

It is always nice to see his family, his darah-daging. More so after he's gone. Makes me feel close to him. His family is my girls' only blood link to their daddy. And strengthening the silaturrahim is a tuntutan agama.

Kak D is indeed an admirable woman. She has gone through a lot in life -- details of which I shan't share in this blog.

After tea and some cookies, I excused myself to leave. As I got up, Abg R asked, "So, dah ada boyfriend ke belum?"...

Ya Allah... how dare he.

Tears immediately rolled down my cheeks. Masa tu dah tak dapat tahan lagi (I make it a point not to cry in front of the girls).

It took me a good 2 minutes wiping my tears and composing myself -- and all the time while doing this, Abg R was saying, "yang pergi dah tentu pergi bla bla bla... alah takkan nak menangis kot..."

*&^%&^#$*!

Finally, I managed a smile and said my goodbye.

Untitled

Should I get personal
Or should I not?
I know some people
Are reading this blog

Do I strip what's inside
And throw my pride
Or should I store it in
To spare my story of pain?

I'm 35 years old
I ain't that old
But my heart is bleedin'
It sure is torturin'

Words can't begin
To express what I'm feelin'
This heartbreak of mine
Oh! when will I be fine?

My best friend forever
Has gone to see his Creator
I miss his demeanor
Especially his laughter

My love has gone for almost a year
I thought they say that it will get better

At night I cry myself to sleep
Coz the hurt and the pain is much too deep

But Allah, I know that you're listening
Please give me the strength, so I can continue living...

Changing profiles...

Tell me, which picture do you like better between the two?

I felt the urge to change my profile picture tonight for some reason. I wanted to and in some ways, I felt I needed to.

The image on the left paints such a gloomy picture. If a profile image represents who you are visually, then do I really feel like the picture on the left?

Do I want to feel like that image? And continue to feel like that?

It will be a year soon since my devastating loss, and I have mourned... oh yes, I have. Don't get me wrong - I am not about to join the party scene or anything like that - nauzubillah... but what I do want is to move forward and chart new memories without letting my loss scar my life and what lies ahead for me and my children.

I have chosen an image of a single rose to represent who I am for now. It is pale in colour - perhaps it had lost some of its tint not too long ago after a drought, but it continues to bloom...

It continues to bloom and withstand the cruel weather because it has been kindly tended to by its Creator.

Ya Allah, I thank You for all Your blessings, for looking after me.

Ya Allah, I thank You for loaning him to me and for giving me the honour to be his wife in this lifetime.

Things may not have gone according to our plans, but I believe Your plan is the best for us. You know better.

Ya Allah, please take care of my Babang and pleeeeesssseee... reunite us as one in the hereafter.

Amin...

P.S. I Love You

I finally got my own copy of P.S I Love You over the weekend. However, I only managed to read the backpage, the introduction and acknowledgement pages dry-eyed last night.

Tears were already crystalising in my eyes by the time I got towards the end of the first page! Page # 1!

I then decided to put it down and perhaps try reading it later when I'm on leave or alone when the girls are over at my mom's.

http://www.cecelia-ahern.com/books/ps-i-love-you