Yatim Piatu

 


Assalamu’alaikum. So I lost my mom, my best friend since birth on 1st April 2023, 10th Ramadan 1444H and have been in an auto pilot mode ever since. I have yet to properly mourn and grieve, given hectic responsibilities throughout Ramadan as a wife, mother and employer. Yep, in a strict line of priorities, if I may add. 

I’m far from okay, sometimes I would randomly sob especially when reading surah al mulk at night, or while packing for eid vacation. A day before Eid I couldn’t bear it any longer that I cried silently each time I was alone in my room, in between odd hours of cooking for iftar. I slept around 11.30pm, set the alarm for 5am to cook nasi hujan panas all by myself, didn’t want to interrupt bibik who had only slept at 3am preparing the main dish. By the time she woke up for fajr prayer, I was already into 2nd round of nasi hujan panas. Yep, that’s how it’s been all this years: 5kg basmati rice duly cooked 4 or 5 rounds on the 1st Syawal. I couldn’t bring myself to cook nasi minyak Terengganu or biryani, because both were my mom’s favourites. 


I have yet to visit her grave since Syawal stepped in, mostly because I’ve been fasting and would complete 6 days tomorrow, after which I might find the strength to drive there. Now that mom has reunited with dad, I somehow am relieved, despite being tremendously crushed. I guess it’s time for me to learn to share every single silly things with someone else, not that I have any candidate at all. 

So this is how it feels to be a yatim piatu! 

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