5th Ramadhan 1437, a year on in the Hijri Calendar…..
5th Ramadhan 1436 – A date I will always remember.
It was the day you held on really tightly and then you let go. Forever. The first time I saw you on your sickbed. I fought my tears back so hard, I failed. You asked why I teared. I didn’t answer. Not that I didn’t have the answer. More of, you were too perfect to be in so much pain. Your kind soul did not deserve that much amount of pain. You had the kindest and gentlest of souls. It was as though I could feel, only part of the pain you were feeling – that was enough to leave me bursting into tears.
Nevertheless, I was happy when you called my name. I am consoled to have been able to spend your last 5 days with you. As much as I silently wished you were still around, I am consoled you left us in the blessed month of Ramadhan, this time, last year.
A matriarch figure, you led the family in your own way, a way only you were capable of. You were the last of the Dadis I ever had. You were a daughter, a wife, a mother, a mother in law and most importantly to me, you were my Dadi at birth. You were also my dearest, my best and my most perfect Dadi. The saying goes, “Nobody is perfect”… Nevertheless, looking back, I can only think of you in a manner, so perfect, so positive and flawless. Couldn’t ask for more. Maybe I’m biased. No I’m not, I beg to differ.
A person of few words, you were always filled with warmth and respected others, in your own quiet, gentle way. Often, when I came around with my maternal cousins or friends, you treated everyone nicely, with lots of love and warmth, your way. All my friends had very good and lasting first impressions of you. The fact that many remember you despite only having met you once, speaks for itself.
When it came to food, you always shared your food, every single bit of it, regardless of the amount. You always made sure everyone had something to eat. Even when in pain, on your sick bed, one of the things you would ask visitors would be, “Minum air..” (In English: Please have a drink of water). Your Iced Milos, Tehs and Samosas were the best, leaving me unsatisfied when I had the same things elsewhere.
It was, and is still, such a privilege to be your grandkid. When we were younger, every school holidays, you took us out to the then dream kids hangout, Parkway Parade. You introduced me to Funworld. You never failed to buy each and everyone of us a toy each. Our outings will end with a round of toy shopping. You somehow knew I wasn’t a toy person as a kid. Once, I decided on a walkman instead of a toy, and you simply agreed. Others would have said I was too young to own one back then. You spoilt all your grand kids, in your own good way. You taught us life lessons, in your own gentle way too.
You loved dressing up as much as I do. You always had the most sincere of compliments on my outfits at occassions. We could talk about lotions, make- up, fashion, tv dramas, almost anything and everything. You loved dining out at fancy places, as much as I do. You were just one cool Dadi anyone can ever have.
A year may have passed. At times, it all still feels like it was just yesterday. Still feels like it all happened so fast, too fast. Dadi dearest, with your very refined mannerisms, you were the epitome of kindness and love.
You left me, us, with many life’s lessons. Important ones. Above all, you taught and showed us the importance of being human, the importance of good mannerisms, the element of respect, which society today lacks. Big time.
Many remember you in a manner so positive. I miss you. We miss you. Badly. Still learning to live without you, we move on with the guidance of life’s elements you always emphasized on.
Best we can do, is to always remember you in our du’as (prayers). To my Dadi-dearest, the late Hajrahbee Binte Ahmad, May you be granted the highest level of Jannatul Firdaus, Inshaa Allah, Ameen.
