Friday, November 29, 2013

178: about death

I really don't know why I wanted to write and draw about this. but, it kept bugging me in the head so I just went along with it. I started to draw this a few weeks ago and only managed to "finish" it a few days ago.

When my father was in coma, the eldest sister from his most recent wife took care of him. She was 16 and wasn't schooling. she was with him all the time and I respect that about her. I only visited a few times; partly because of the distance and partly because of the past--of what had happened between us.

The first time I went to visit, I was with my brothers; and the second time I went to visit, I was with my husband and Iyyad. but I went inside alone.


...and I just starred at him. I really have no idea what to say. My friend from this post (the worrior) advised me to keep on talking about good news that was happening... stuffs that can make him happy... make jokes etc.

But all I can do was stare and thought about all the things that could have been, should have been...  I recited some doa. and yassin. and just continued to stare at him.


and stare some more...

The next visits were also the same. And I left with a broken heart. Every time. It was amazing how much a man can break your heart all your life and still can do so unconsciously--literally. Or maybe it was my heart that was too broken that it was reminded of why it was broken during each visit.


So one day...my half sister called my husband to tell the news. and when he called me, I just went numb. I really don't know what to feel. I stood there in the middle of the staff room and just went blank for a few seconds. When I called my mother to tell her, only then a tear was shed.

My mother, with a strict voice, just ordered me to call the other family members and get ready to go there (he was about 8 hours of drive away)


...and dear Allah, how I was fortunate to have such a good husband. With a help of his friend, he managed everything. I wouldn't know what to do if he didn't come along...

The only time I saw my father (for the last time) was when I went to the mortuary. my thoughts were all mixed up. my feelings were all tangled...


and when his body was brought to the burial ground, I just kept still in the car... because I have to take care of Iyyad, and because I was pregnant. and because,...death; death teaches you forgiveness in a very weird way.

2 comments:

nazha anua said...

innalillah dan alfatihah..

azreen chan said...

I'm sorry for the news Waz.