Just me

01st Feb 2008:

Hi world . This is my first blog. This is me ;-) . My name is aini. Well chosen by my parents to reflect my simple self. I was born, like ..long time ago ... and I m feeling good about living. I d like to tell a story about my mother. I dedicate this blog to her .. a very simple, honest and warm hearted woman. The world has no interest in her but to me, she is Queen Sheba of my world. She was born 71 years ago, in small hidden village called Alor Pongsu, to a poor parent. My mom has this chinese look...my late aunt told me that my grand-daddy was a chinese muslim ...and many of my nieces and nephews have that distct chinky look which is rather charming.

My mom, Sapiah Binti Jaffar, my poor little Queen Sheba, missed school due to the Japanese invasion ...and I supposed most probably due to the ignorance of my grand-mama as well (since her dad died before she was born). So she grew up illiterate ...innocence and ignorance, but warm hearted, sincere and ready to sacrifice herself for her loved ones.


Non of us ..her kids... knows ...or even bother to asked her about her childhood experience. She is just like being there to served everybody ...but she herself is just a nobody. No one asked her what life is like ...what kind of hardship she had gone thru ...as long as we are all happy, she would be too.

-----------------

As a kid, I remember how hard life was. Harder for my mom of course. She not just have to endure the hardship of raising 10 kids ( ...excluding one still-born ..and this is the last and the hardest pregnancy she ever had), but also the hardship of living with not easy to please in-laws and high nose relatives who think she is just a poor village girl whom do not deserve a second look.

She was rather over-weight from her young self and always her relative (from my farthers side) would sneer at her for eating too much (which is not really the case though she enjoy food ..mind you, she is one person that never wasted any food, even today, thats her way of showing `syukur').

Her days was filled with cleaning, cooking and running after the kids (including me ..the no 2 daughter ..whom were very stubborn and hot headed). We were never hungry though (my hard working father ensure that) ...but in those days, nobody ever heard about food processor, blender, micro oven, not to mention washing machine. We dont even have gas stove. My mom had to pounce chilli and spices on the 3rd day after delivery of her baby ...and going out into the forrest to find fire-wood. I remember `helping' with chopping and carrying coconut trunks donated by our distant relative who wanted to clear their garden.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I slept in the hospital (Kajang) with my mum. Sometimes on the floor. Some night on two chairs put together. But that was one of my best moment. In the dim light she told me stories of her child hood. I was determine to get to know her. She was eager to tell ( I believe because no one ever interested to ask and to know).

She was 12 years old. I can actually imagine how she looked, a slim, fair, chinese looking girl with long black hari (she had never cut her hair ... until later after her multiple stroke, my sis had to cut off her phony tail for her good sake) .

How she loved fishing . One day while enjoying her daily fishing, suddenly out of the blue, with no obvious reason my grandma just took a block of wood and start chasing after her. She ran for her life. Lucky her uncle whom happened to see the drama from his house next door, stopped and hold-back my grandma. Otherwise she would be a cripple (if not demised) then. To this day she is still wondering what wrong had she done to invoke such a reaction.

... and how a neigbour son was interested in her. Always standing around her while she fished, and later his mom came asking for her hand, but my grandma refused for whatever reason ...and finally, best of all the events that takes her to be the wife of my father. We were in the hospital. But every night I look forward to be with her and to hear her stories.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My mom was warded into Kajang Hospital. A second stroke. Hardly we forget the first strike.. the sadness of looking helplessly at her sick, sad self in the ICU in Seberang Jaya Hospital. Her weak body, mind and soul are getting weaker. And her sad, child like look, asking questions `whats happening to me !? ' which no one can answer.

Just two of us. my sis Aisah waits on her during the day while I rushed back from work ...spend a couple of hours with my hubby .. and off to the hospital for grave yard shift (while my sis go home for a short rest & to take care of her family and our father ..till next morning).

So sad .. I still cry today thinking of her sad condition . Her mind (and we suspect some other evil force as well) are hunting her. She begged to be taken back home to father. She missed father every single second, and she cannot understand why we are keeping her in this miserable pathetic place full of strange people and ugly creatures (she actually `see' these ugly creatures. Usually after midnight she would start pointing and looking around for strange ugly creatures which only she can see, weeping & begging for me to drag her back home ) ...and I would climbed into her bed, hugging her like a baby .. (I m crying while I write these) .

She hardly can recall her moments in the hospital.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My mom's multiple stroke had affected her speech and her muscle. But with Allah's grace she is now able to walk around pushing her red stroller. But If anybody to ask her whether she is well, for sure to get a standard response `I m well ..but I still cant walk' ...to her walking means without stroller !! But her spirit to live is strong. She cries sometimes though, thinking how long more she has to be dependent on people. Her only happiness is my father. She cries also sometime thinking what would happen without my father (I ll tell my father's stories later) ...(and my beloved Hubby as well of course)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I took half day off from work yesterday ..that was 26th Aug 2008. It was just another hectic day in the office. But my mind keep on thinking of my mom ....and my dad (of course that was when I can stop thinking of my Hubby ... facing his own peril in the farm) . So off time would be good to clear my mind ..cause for so long I had been promising mom & dad for a drive around. Their live is contained within the 4 walls of my sis's home ...which is comfortable ..but ... a 5 days stint in a 1st class private hospital taught me that living within 4 walls ( especially with no hope of having the freedom of going anywhere independently) ..is hell on earth. So I drove them to Port Dickson, to see the sea. My father was a fisherman and we practically grow up by the sea. So after so long, they gets to see the sea ..at least ... and as I suspected, after a 4 hours round trip, they both look more alive. My mom actually goble up a whole chicken burger, declaring it is the best she had ever have (mind u , she is also a diebetic ..but PD is realy a shut-down place on weeks days approachigng Ramadhan) ..and I m happy at least I can make a difference to their life , at least for just one day. Next trip ...Hulu Langat ..as I promised them ..to happen after Raya Puasa.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------