I guess I'm still very much in yesterday's blues. So, bear with me. I guess maybe I'll just speak my heart out and see what happens. Ouch, touchin... ( the sensitive side of me, you can say! )

The exceptional woman was much more than a grandmother to myself, my sister, brothers and cousins; much more than a parent to my mother and aunts and uncles; much more than a friend to those whose lives she touched.

Having at least partly raised me - and all of her grandchildren for we loved spending as much time as possible at Grandma's - oftentimes she represented the role and offered the guidance and support of a mother, as well. She had the rare quality of always being much more than a relative; an open way of relating to us which also made her a best friend.

Known as "Mek" to most who knew her, this special soul was one-in-a-million.

Most of us tend to wax and wane between enjoying life and complaining about its negative points. Mek was never one of these people. I am hard pressed to remember any time when she was not in a good mood - laughing, smiling, joking and carefree. She loved life so that even in the final hours of her illness she clung to it tenaciously. We who loved her just wanted to see her finally find peace.

I so desperately wanted to be there for her, holding her hand, at her final moment. I missed this by couple of hours - my brother called me and said she had passed away right as I was on my way to the airport with my sister. I became angry on the way down there. I swore aloud. I questioned God's decision. I hated myself for those several minutes driving down there - if only I had book my flight a few hours earlier. When I told my aunt about this afterward, she consoled me by saying, "she probably didn't want you to see those final moments." I then realized that she was undoubtedly right about this.

This is part of how Mek was: she would always endure so that someone else would have to endure less in whatever it was they were going through.

Again, she was one-in-a-million.

As a child, Mek taught me about Allah and morality among many other things. She taught me the ways of wisdom, which at many times throughout my life have been an irreplaceable asset to me - an advantage often far beyond those of my peers - one which they did not share. Even in the sadness of her passing, she has taught me one last lesson: there is most certainly an afterlife of paradise. It was evident upon her face.

Although you had gone from us and my innate human tendency toward my own selfishness of how that made me feel had made me so angry with life on my way over there, when I saw you I knew that - despite how much we would all grieve - despite how we would all now have a hole in our hearts with someone so precious to us leaving us forever - Allah had indeed intervened at the moment when he'd felt it best to.

We have always loved you very deeply - and we always will. The memories of you will be with us forever. I'm sure that they will be with all others whose lives you touched, as well.

When my own time comes - as it does and will for us all - whether it be tomorrow, next year, or fifty years from now, with every shred of the very fabric of my being I will still be able to say - with their utmost meaning - these words with which we now part as I and all of your other loved ones lay you to final rest:

"Granma, this blog is dedicated to you. God Bless You Forever"
Amin Ya Rabbal Alamin...

Posted by Wan Mohd Fahimi @ 12:12 PM