Eid, Gran’s Grave, My Birthday and my last day in Singapore

Today morning we went to the grave; the last of the 7th day. By now family tears have dried but still I drench myself…selfishly…at the thought of emptiness. I layer the emptiness with pretence. I kiss the foot of her bed every morning (her feet)…wish her goodnight every night. Bring her water of the right temperature. Tuck fresh linen under her pillow. And when we recite prayers, she sits on her throne. I even *cursed* when a stranger sat in front of her chair- surely he invaded her territory. Why do I hold on when I never needed her?

2007

Why do I find it so difficult to let go?

Death is powerful. During Mak‘s last hours, each of us whispered either prayers, thanks, words of mercy and forgiveness in her ear. When Amir spoke in her ear he said ‘Mak, Now I believe in Allah.’
‘Allah the giver and taker of life’

Don’t feel scared to leave because you are leaving for a much better world,’ I say to her.

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