Denial. Anger.
Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.
I think I have well mastered the Kubler-Ross’s model, having
experienced the various emotional stages Dr Elisabeth noted in these last 10
days. Death is indeed a life-altering event. And I can’t imagine going through
this again.
The initial mode of somber that followed….
Denial. How is it
possible that this army man with his strict military routine - who would do
chores and groceries when my mom lost her ability to walk, who would scold us
when we were loud, who would tell us off when we are wrong, who had made
tremendous sacrifice to leave his life in Kelantan to come to KL … goes this
soon? It was only a couple of month’s back that I had an argument with him. It
was a couple of weeks ago that he came and visits the house after my operation.
And wasn’t it a couple of days before that the doctor said he could come home
in the next 1-2 weeks? The last I saw you were on Thursday when you tried to
open the cloth that they tied your hand to because you didn’t want to use the
breathing mask, and I massage your back because you were not able to sleep. They
told me that you were doing so well on Friday. So you can’t be gone the next
day. Not that soon.
Anger. I felt
that you didn’t even try to get better. You lost the appetite to eat, and with
that the will to live. How can a person lose so much weight and until today,
the doctor could not explain the symptom and cause. Abah, how can you leave us
when I still could not give you grandchildren? Who would scold my children when
they are naughty, or to instill discipline in them when they are a snob? Why didn’t
you fight when your BP went down further, and further, until that heart rate
was just a linear line. Don’t you love us enough?
And I was angry with others who I thought would be there to
be my pillar of strength but was nowhere to be found. I was angry at the world
for taking you away when there are so much that I have not done for you. There
was so much rage about the very little time that we had together.
Depression. The
final moment when everything began to lose meaning. I was busy with work, with toastmaster,
with my other life .. that I never had enough time for you. If only I had
finished work earlier on Friday to spend some quality time with you for the
very last time, or not going to toastmaster on Saturday morning so that you can
acknowledge this daughter of yours before they inserted the tube and sedate you
for good. How can one person be such a workaholic when no amount of work and
recognition can ever replace you? I chose not to talk to people who don’t bring
meaning to my life. And I ignored everything, literally everything because the
thought of anything besides our family-time just further demotivated me. And
the same questions repeatedly haunt me, “Why didn’t i… Why wasn’t i… Why
couldn’t i….Why… Why…”
I could be smiling and laughing when I’m with the family as
we speak about fond memories of you, but I would curl back to depression when I
am by myself or at the kubur when I think of you. Did I make you proud abah?
And finally, when
reality hits.
A toastmaster friend reminded me of a speech I listened to
on Saturday, very apt, about the 4 important word that I should never forget,
“It’s gonna be OK”. And with that, I brave it through and decided to forge
ahead in this new chapter of my life.
Acceptance. I
bought a new book on happiness, something that Da and I have promised to start
our book club with. And with that came many resolutions about making myself
happy. I started to do things which I have put off for the longest time like
gardening. And I am on the path on ticking off many more resolution; perhaps to
put my mind off thinking of the many things I could not do with abah.
And hey, i am coming back to work tomorrow after a long disappearance. Slowly, but surely.
Yesterday my sister shared a photo of abah at the last Raya Haji, when the sharp edge of the parang accidently made a large cut on his leg when we were doing the korban. I was there and I remembered it clearly. He initially refused to seek medication because he wanted to be there throughout to supervise our ‘work’ at the slaughter area. He did not feel any pain and rush back to our table to ensure that cow meat were divided equally and the right plastic bag is used for the different parts.
That was abah, always trying
to take control.
You won’t be around to supervise us this year abah, but you
have taught us well. We will carry the tradition in years to come in your
remembrance and strive to become better person.
We will take care of ma and Rubi and fulfil your last amanat.
I will only post of happy things about you after this. And
the happiness project shall begin.
